You are raindrop

You are breath.

Breathing the landscape, the city scrapers and the office papers.
You are breath. Breathing out the energy, the wonder that makes the inhale even possible.
You are not one speck of sand amongst the endless piles, you are the raindrop that falls amongst the whole of the ocean

breathing in and breathing out again.

Nothing more than all and one, creator of everything, creator of none.

Come close raindrop as you trickle down the window, watching the blankets all bundled and buried amongst other breathing things.
Slide down the pane you little raindrop, amongst the bellowing rain.
Come home to this home and settle here. Nowhere to go, nothing to fear.

For you are raindrop.

And we know raindrops don’t linger for long until they submerge into the earth, the heavenly dirt and sing the earthworm’s song.

It is here where you lie. Perhaps it is here where you die.

But you are raindrop.

And this is what raindrops do. Nothing to become and nothing to prove.
It is here in the darkness, the gloominess may gather.
Where other raindrops cry and dissolve amongst the dryness of dark brown matter.

But you are raindrop,

watch and see.

For when you descend deep into the earth, this is where you are most fully free.
To come to life in other forms: a potato, a weed, a caterpillar or an apple seed.

Come raindrop, from your place on high,

to make beauty, magic, colour because you were once part of the sky.
Come linger down here where it’s dirty, dismal and dead.
And sing. And dance. And let your new body have new chance.
For this place down here, where destruction surrounds.
is not your story,

for you were of clouds and whimsical dreams and you bring this moisture down.

Don’t die to what the bundles of blankets are watching on the news while you trickle down the glass.
There is sorrow, there is dismay, but come and make the good things last.

Even for a moment.

So that maybe the bundle of blankets made of nature’s cotton strands might glance up at you and have hope once again.

Come grow,

even if you become just a weed. So that the green will come glimmering and give new story to the next seed.

Come down,

and send your prayers to the earth. Even if it is here for just one moment more. Give beauty and wonder one last final burst.

And breathe
raindrop
breathe.

Breathe through this landscape, the city scrapers and the office work papers.

Breathe out, one last time,

and disappear into vapour.