Do droplets dream of ancient echoes? In the silence between thunder, I ponder
my descent. A universe in turmoil, yet I am drawn forth in a needle's curve,
landing on skin or slipping to the sea.
Faithlessly true, I find my reflection in every surface.
A bead on a slick pane of glass, persisting
through collision, merging—am I lost or found?
Each reverberation is a prelude to harmony.
In resonating chimes, I hear the splintering of stars
and the songs of earthbound souls. Are we
footprints in the ocean, memories lost to time,
or catalysts for azure tides that dance?