Amidst the storms that brew
there is but one droplet of water
which lingers in the crevices of my palm,
cradled in the security of my grasp.
The leaves around us weep,
while the heavens above cry.
But this day where the dreamers and realists unite,
I shut my eyes and imagine.
With dry lips I graze my knuckle
because that’s as close as I’ll come.
When I unravel my fingers I can see through.
Don’t stray from me droplet,
and I’ll hold on to you
for as long as nature will let me.