I dream to drink the sky,
it would taste so sweet,
a sea of blue and stars
and everything in between.
If we are all
just droplets,
falling from what’s above,
will we crack and break
when we finally
hit the ground?
If my droplet
becomes only small fragments
of itself,
what will happen to my world
will it shatter as well?
Or might it widen?
With all the light
suddenly being let in,
if by
falling we are opening,
if by breaking
we are growing,
then why do we fear our failings?
If we don’t
push open the doors,
if we can’t see
that there's more,
if our droplets,
being shed from what’s above,
trap us in imperfections,
hold us in tiny worlds
of our own creation,
do we lose
each other, and sight of
what there is
that we are not?
When raindrops
hit the ground,
one by one,
softly exploding,
you have to
strain your ears to hear them.
But when they fall and break
as one
they are loud and strong,
like thunder.
Maybe our worlds
need to be a little wider.
Maybe when they crack and break,
we’ll become a little wiser.
Posted in response to the challenge Spring: Writing Contest.
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