Solitary-Poet

Raindrops, giving up their gentle abode,

No longer floating in air,

The swarm of condensed beads prepare,

Leave their cloudy abode,

Descend from their heavenly domain,

First all together, then in waves,

Jump from clouds, fly in air,

Running to their earthly destiny.

Eyes, holding an empty nothingness,

Circle of broken empty blue irises,

Shaded only by a hollowed out brow.

Lifetime hidden in each crease,

Sense first, then see little glints,

Like broken mirrors catching the sun,

The flying formation of raindrops.

The brow, prepares –

Eyes dart back and forth,

Pull the grey tattered blanket,

Await their eventual arrival.

Raindrops, touch, land,

Some reach the brow,

Rest, Jump and fly again,

Merging into the ground,

Losing and become one,

A part of the brown dusty landscape.

Some collect, become whimsical patterns

On grey tattered strips of the blanket.

Some reach the empty blue eyes,

Become little pearl tears,

Live – find a home,

Change, gather little tales

Lifetime of stories stolen

Forever, from the blue irises.

Raindrops, those lucky ones –

Forever changed, become tears,

Wait the next rain, next set of tears

To pass the story of empty eyes,

Tell heroic tales of love,

Lifetime of memories –

Held in a single pearl tear.