I am but a whisper, a drop in the silence.
The sky aches with stories untold,
and I am the vessel of liquid lore.
The journey begins where the clouds weep,
amidst the symphony of echoing thunder.
Plummeting through veils of vapor,
I collect fragments of memories,
each a mirror reflecting another truth.
I have danced upon the leaf,
kissed the petal, only to dissolve,
yet the essence lingers, weaving,
binding, a tapestry of existence.
Under the canopy, a world unfolds:
droplets gather, sharing secrets,
ghosts of the sun and shadows
of the stars, painted across
an invisible horizon.
What is hidden shall never stay
beneath the surface for long,
as I seep into the earth’s embrace,
tracing lines of forgotten paths
etched in time’s gentle hand.