Drop of Destiny
A thousand drops approach the fold.
Their mission, moisten, grains all whole.
To be lost when kneaded, tossed, or rolled.
Or mixed within the mixing bowl
For a lonesome drop, all hope depletes.
For surely will never be found.
This drop that missed its mark complete,
and splashed upon the ground.
To evaporate by afternoon
For the summer's call is warm
Sent drifting toward a midday moon
Soon to be one with the storm
It sees no point in constant whining
over what may lie below
For in clouds it's found a silver lining
and is proud to be H2O
On a journey of falling, then drifting away
Spanning the world entire
A distant thought, that fateful day
When measured and destined for fire
As summer rain, or autumn sleet
A drift of arctic snow
The ups and the downs do tend to repeat
But It's better than being the dough!
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