On an opulent curved dome
Of a proud white mushroom
An enigmatic, clear, single drop
Well formed, eager, quietly sit.
Wonder what and what it is up to now-
A tear drop shed in pain by a lonely fairy,
Or a stray drop of untimely rain, futile,
A memory lapse,a cloud somehow had?
What if it's a disillusioned universe,
Willfully collapsed,due to it's own weight,
Reduced to a miniature and still in flux,
Wanting to see a new dream altogether!
Sitting like a king on his throne, it reflects,
The limitless sky on it's upturned single eye!
Waiting perhaps for the rising purple morning sun
to give an offer, to evaporate and be back in the cycle.
