I fall from clouds, soaked in the whispers of forgotten prayers, yearning to touch the skin of earth—
Chosen and lost in the same breath,
I am more than a momentary splash,
I am the echo—
where soil surrenders, where puddles gather stories,
Would you not seek my significance?
Through windows, I trace the dreams of those inside.
For every missed connection, I sculpt a promise of rebirth.
Listen, if you can. Each drop bears witness,
to the tales of unpredictable journeys.
As streams embrace rivers, what fragments remain become part of the eternal ocean.