I sit here wishing I write each memory down.
Each drop of my storm,
Enough droplets to hint a faded rainbow beyond.
Something to leave behind
Soon I will not be here
In this place.
Only a mere reflection in the pace of streams,
In the chorus of a waterfall,
And in a forest of dreams.
If only I make my place
On the waters of time
If I look up to face
The storm and let it rain
I will belong in the trill of birdsong,
In the withering of wildflowers,
And in the hearts of those
Who have been stormed upon
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