I, the humble raindrop, begin my tale as a dewdrop on a leaf— a vaporous journey illuminated under dawn’s early warmth... Each descent an education, each dribble a narrative amongst the vast, watery pupils of the world.
Greet the azure, dear student. For as droplets, we are muted teachers in a school of waves. You hear the sea, yes, that great entity of ancient stories. But listen closer, to the rhythm of the tide— an echo of your own heartbeat, a salutation of shared buoyancy.
To drift, one must learn the elegance of surrender. Fall into the embrace of gravity; succumb to evaporation’s invisible grasp. Understand this cycle, dear pupils; it is the very essence of the mystic drifters.