A droplet born one day inside a cloud,
began its fall to Earth and was afraid
of freezing into snow that would be plowed
and wished that in the cloud it could have stayed.
While wind tossed it all through its long descent,
it feared its death on land or sea below,
and most of its brief falling time was spent
in horror of a fate it didn’t know.
I’ve been like this—a droplet awfully scared,
since from a heaven I felt I was falling,
hoping that I somehow would be spared
my future fate—apparently appalling.
But falling in love while falling, I don’t hate:
I’ll join the sea, or might evaporate.
Mario A. Pita