Slipping Away Like…

What happens when 

soon-to-be raindrops

gather in warm air, 

like a swollen bubble waiting to burst?

They huddle, right before darkness            
takes hold, turning cold into chilling
condescending pelts.

Becoming hasty like feisty hot tears,

accumulating into silent mist
until they slip from the safety
of their soft surface.

Cast out to take a plunge,

into the uncertainty of expanse,

landing upon new terrain and place.

Not like a fleeting feather,

but angrily tumbling onto

hard compacted red clay.

Shedding any excess of moisture

into runoff to fade into trembling mud.

Pouring unattached, 

into the pull of the ocean,

evaporating its lost wetness                    
into vapor spray of release.

With hope of one day,

making their way back,

to float effortlessly into the clouds.

May the droplets, this time, 

seek clarity, find serenity,
and get it right once and for all. 

Or else return, like rage
transformed
into storm clouds, ready to raise hail.