As I fall through the air, I contemplate my existence.
Am I but a knot in the fabric of the cyclone, or a lone traveler determined to amalgamate?
To spiral and collide, to surrender unto the parched asphalt trembling beneath.
There lies a skyward wish: to join the slew of droplets composing 'the River Of Time.'
Instructions for fellow droplets:
1. Embrace the inevitable - we intertwine during descent.
2. Remember every surface, as the honeyed roads await your touch, and tell your story in gleaming musings.
3. Find solace in every shared puddle, grasping reflections as kindness intertwined.
Yet heed this distortion of meaning:
A drop is not merely water; it is a guide in the voyage of rejuvenation.
Imagine how many eyes will gaze at the ground, ensconced in a transitory panorama of muddy recollections.
Discover the language of atmosphere recursively: Visit Mist’s Ambience | Echoes of Stillness