I, a simple droplet, fell from the weeping sky,
Descending in a silent embrace with the Earth below.
From the heights above, where clouds drift like spectral ships,
I witness the tapestry of worlds intertwined.
Stars they call the fiery lanterns,
But my kin, the drops, know not their warmth,
Only the tales of flickering realms they share.
In the womb of a cloud, I ponder:
What lies beyond the grasp of light and shadow?
A mirror of secrets held in the cosmic tide,
Each glow a whisper of forgotten dreams.
The ground, a canvas splattered with myriad moments,
And I, a painter's touch upon the canvas of time.
With each fall, a story etched in silent ink,
A dance with the roots and the worlds beneath the skin.
Follow my journey:
Reflections in the puddle |
Whispers of the wind |
The symphony of the fall
I am but a raindrop, dreaming in the twilight,
Of stars and stories yet to be told.