Raindrop || Meditative Poetry
By: a.m. MOON
I used to be a raindrop, word up!
you are staring out of a cloud-high
window watching a raindrop, drop
from the hazy shades of sindoor
red & tuareg indigo.
she appears as if
from nowhere — the nomad,
the shaman, the shapeshifter —
she is light, autonomous — free.
she begins her journey
until she connects
with one d r op
& then another
& then another!
B L OP! — ha ha!
the water too heavy to gainsay
gravity, yet so joyful & carefree
to collaborate into the consciousness
of 1. this foursome, a rainy reunion,
races down the window — ha!
magic! & then, she is gone, just
like that, no longer in your view.
ahh, she lived a good life!
you think — (you think?)
are her whole story
like an obituary.
she has transitioned
from this life
to the next—
the Water Spirit
e t e r n a l & free.
* * *
Draft from a.m. MOON’s forthcoming collection,
Avatar of Love: a Polyphonic Healing
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