Raindrops

Raindrops fall, cyclical, ever present.
Drops of pearlescent sunshine,
glistening morning dew.
Saturated earth,
smelling sweet and heavy,
fresh, alive.
Finding itself in a particular moment,
trapped in space,
known only to those there to catch a glimpse.
Early morning rises
as bright golden arms
reach through nothing
to bring into being
a certain something glorious
beyond the comprehension.
Infinitesimal as that which is existence,
slowly shattered by time,
putting all things to a place,
and all things to an end.
Slowly as the outpouring skies cease tears,
colorful, majestic comes a smile to its lips.
All is at peace as small wings flutter,
reanimated is the life which flows through all.
That pulsing force
reminding each day
of something indescribable,
wonderful,
joyous,
pure.