I am but a droplet in the celestial ocean, poised precariously upon the edge of heaven. A journey carved by gravity and destiny, each fall a tale woven into the great nebula tapestry.
The clouds cradle my essence, whispering secrets of the sun and moon. In their soft embrace, I ponder: Who am I, but a traveler in the wind?
As I drift, I see worlds unfold, not of solid earth or familiar ground, but of cosmic dust and stellar whispers, painting the sky in hues of twilight.
Do I remember the touch of the ocean? The vastness that cradled me before birth? Or the mountains I once caressed, their silent strength now a memory?
Each journey a rebirth, every descent a chance to become anew. A single droplet among countless stars, yet wholly itself — a universe contained.
Relinked to the cosmos, I find solace, in knowing that even as I fade, my essence will mingle with the nebula, a part of the eternal cycle.