Am I not the wanderer,
eager to join the cacophony below?
Yet, bound by the unbroken silence of yonder skies.

As I touch the ground, will I dissolve,
blending one with the memories of the earth,
or stand distinct, a solitary echo amidst many?

Listen closely, and you might hear me whisper: The tale of descent.
Or perhaps an initiation of rhythm within the chaos.

Each droplet a mirror,
reflecting a universe yet to fall.
Bearing witness to stirrings never spoken,
Yet felt, deeply, in the rumblings below.

An interminable love letter,
written to the ground,
tucked behind clouds,
yearning to be read.