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by Clyde A raindrop. A splash on the ground. The sound it makes... Eerily echoing throughout. An echo. Multiplied a thousand fold, Sustained for an ever-changing Segment of time. A blur of water, Streaking from cloud to ground. Distorting and blurring All the light it captures. The distortion Amplified many times; The world becomes A painter's vision. The vision, A blurred watercolor display, A splendidly grayed And shifted reality. A mass of watercolors on a canvas, Hung out on the horizon to dry. As the sun pierces the graying clouds, The blurs become redefined. The golden rays are captured and adorned By thousands of droplets of dew, Making the gray vision a vivid world of light. |
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