Droplets

-
Avery

A drip on the window sill, again, again.
The sky’s colorful components cast away,
a medley of silent hues, no blue, remain.
It is fertile out there,
soil darkened, leaves enriched.
Each dry, despairing, desolate plant,
gets a chance of revival, rejuvenation, rebirth.
The pouring is unpredictable,
but it happens.
When will we learn the same is true for us?
The seasons of dryness are fleeting,
stagnancy will pave way to droplets,
growth.


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