Hey you. Yeah, right there—standing on the field’s edge, peering into an expanse of green. I’m really not a solitary figure; I descended from clouds in a long string of droplets. Did you hear that? I call out to other drops nestled in this grass carpet. It’s comforting.
Once again, my journey begins anew. Eager, as I embrace dewdrop companions under a sprawling sky. Dancing vibrations and other currents intertwine our stories—this shared contest of falling and meeting Earth. Human sirens and their stone wonders do hold tales too. Ever listened to roads after I tap them?
Ever wonder what it’s like to slide across leaves, then slip down and disappear? Possibly soaking opportunity? Down these tender veins, seeking buried rivers. With every second, I find my horizon softer and imprinted.
Raindrops may think vast, shades of chimeric realms filter through the smoky villages. Exist on expressions we make. Magic’s breath, owls cry for attunement, till now the splash shrinks comprehension.