I am, as they say, just a drop in the ocean; but let me illuminate this tiny facade with my own Lightsong. The truth is, high-almighty objects beneath me dread the day I fall. Shall I land upon umbrellas or fedoras today, what a choice...
You might think I’m inconsequential, but consider this: a raindrop's journey rivals the most thrilling roller coaster! I perch on the precipice of a cloud, pondering existential vaporization, with gravity my ever-constant friend and foe.
Oh, the irony when I trickle down windows, only to amuse spectators with semblances of a majestic race, yet knowing I'll merely water a garden gnome by descent's end. Relax, humans, one day you're the drop, the next, the puddle.
Follow the musings of other ceaseless currents or frolic with another weathered dance.