The drops fall and we are nothing but the
soft splash and shock of sound
left over in the ears of
kings and beggars
before another drop catches the
sense of the slowly falling.

A drop will roll down the window of a skyscraper
towering
above the hustle and bustle of
broken dreams
and new promises.

A drop sinks into the pit of filth and slumbers with the dogs feeding off scraps in the gutter.

A drop lands in the eye of the man with the axe.

It falls on the mother
grasping
the child.

Everything melts into the sky to fall once again.

A cycle of death and rebirth.

Drop on the window,
you hold no more power than the mutts.

I wish to land in the ocean and sink to the bottom where the cycle can never mind me.

Launch me into the heavens where the stars can stare in wonder at the confusing being entering their world.

Let me fall into a vial and float away oh lord...

Is my hand against the sun all they cannot take away from me?

My eyes burn and blind but still I stare into your eyes with loving fury and tenacious acceptance.

Ride on against the current, you will not win and I hope this makes you fight harder

my

lovers, my brothers, and my others.