the first drop

I am falling again, fast, fast, faster, pushed by the wind. This is not the first time I have fallen, certainly not the last, but my breath is still caught up and blown away from me by the beauty of the sky.

Strong gusts push against me, slowing my fall, the wind eager to keep me in its embrace. Still, I fall. Temperature rises and crashes around me, the very sky excited, clouds clammoring over one another in their joy. They are happy to see me.

I pass through the soft, lower clouds  –  the homes of my cousins and long, lost loves. Their puffs of affection form different shapes in the sky, talking to me in the only way they know how. I see them settle into the figure of a cat before I am gone, gone, gone again.

I have long since left the clouds behind, and with nothing to look at around me  –  the ground still too far to see  –  I reminisce of my first journey.

I came into this world on a snowy, winter day, full of awe at those around me. I was warm, happy, amazed. I was brought into existence on someone’s cheek, sliding down coffee skin gently, like a caress softly kissing all bittwesweet sorrows away. I was not alone. Salt was mixed within, the way tears always are, and my brothers followed me eagerly into the new world.

My creator was happy. He was laughing, eyes on the sky, and there was something else that I had no hope of understanding.

I am too close to the ground for any more remembering. The land below me is gray and full of energy. People move in a hurry, disgruntled expressions on their faces. They can feel the weather changing.

I sing to them as I approach, a lullaby about nothing and everything. My journey down has almost reached its end.

I hit a petal, a soft reddish flower, and launch into my tale. The flowers are always interested in what I have to say. They watch the sky eagerly, day to day, but can only visit it through my stories. What wonderful listeners they are  –  and friends.

I am the first raindrop of the day.

A storm follows me.

credits

Lea