Falls the Rain
It is a slowly condensed birth. Rain born of the warm wet winds from southern seas in sudden cloud clung meetings with the old peaks that prickle down the centre of the green island. High above those fulminating thunder heads, the schooner moon casts silver roads upon the atlas of the clouds. Having been born, a drop of rain falls with its siblings. A warm summer rain.
Such a long way, the drop falls. The drop is small. Any height would be a long way. The drop dances with the others. They move with the laughter of being born. A gentle breeze lifts the drop up for a quick updraft and sideways. Then down again.
This single drop of rain splashes against a supple young leaf. The leaf sways at the sudden wet kiss. They shiver together. The drop slides ever so slowly down the sweet green spine of the leaf. The drop glides a caress before reaching the leaf's long curled tip. They cling together, reluctant to part, but gravity pulls the drop away
The drop splashes into the stream below.
The stream spirals a brief ring and flows on.