I am but a solitary drop,
I, a mere molecule of sky's transient tears,
poised at the brink of descent,
cradle the universe's forgotten symphonies.
Through the cellular lattice of clouds, I tumble,
cascading into echoes of an endless spring,
Where laughter mingles with vibrant echoes of radiance.
My brothers and sisters,
woven into the cosmic dialect of the storm,
pursue fractures of light refracted through skyglass.
With gently orchestrated chaos, I splash upon soil,
threaded through earth's venerable wisdom,
again reborn, yet unchanged in core.
Selected by the embrace of terra's timeless cradle,
I whisper tales to zephyr's whimsical song,
tracing tales in cells of hidden roots,
yearning for reunion with airy kin.
I am but a solitary drop,
An eternal cycle, forever lost and found,
stitched into the fabric of a laughing brook,
flowing onward, an echo in the rhythm of the earth.
Where do I go next? Pathways open,
the refreshing scent of promised future tickles the senses.
Choices glimmer like dawn upon dewy pastures.