The Mist
.
The mist
condensed,
a droplet
on a particle of dust
Reflected white
clouds
of endless form
darkening
Other droplets wake
and merge,
each one adding
weighted
A moment
frozen in time,
never
ending
Raindrop
shifting shape,
falling
from grace
Catching light
refracting,
each drop
a rainbow
Dictated
by the wind,
brief but
exhilarating
The impact
sudden,
shattered,
broken
The thirsty earth,
saturated,
absorbs
and guides
Through soil
and stone,
seeping,
creeping
The flow expands,
entangled,
it moves
as one
The stream
emerges,
small channels
shape the ground
A path is carved,
connections
joining
growing
Under or around
obsticles,
every rapid
flowing
Falling thunder
deep rumble,
the river
tumbles
Deepens,
slows,
no longer a rush,
knows itself
The water
merges
fresh and salty
enriching
in cycles
the great ocean
of understanding
.
![](https://images.hive.blog/768x0/https://s1.postimg.org/2fm2zyz83j/clouds_by_krzykskate.jpg)
Life creating itself over and over again... I have almost forgotten the wonderful world of poetry, which I really enjoyed all my life...I really what to thank you for reminding me!
You're welcome, glad you enjoyed!
Thank you for reading :)
love ..thank you
@originalworks
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