I see my life in raindrops,
tiny water-bubbled memories,
as they fall.
And I wait for the deafening thunder,
the reckoning of realization hits,
that I am myself, so very small.
The lightning across the sky- breaks
and it is my will.
Weakening too quickly spent,
to hold the daylight, still.
And I find myself waiting,
the clouds all passing by.
For the winds to hearken to my soul,
that rains all the time.