Poem by Jason Thomas

Raindrops tap on my window like restless fingers on a desk. I sit up in my bed and watch their journey. They leap and plunge to their fate. Playfully dancing on leaves before settling on the grass. Mother Nature's gift to Father Time. Offering a coexistence to cultivate. Elemental yet elementary. Dripping. Flowing. Buoyant substance of sustenance. Nurturing aspiration and washing away failure. Vast. Deep. Immeasurable power hidden under the surface of blue-green serenity. Ubiquitous. We are of it. Genetically embedded with it. Theoretically indebted to it. Evidenced by our shared lunar disposition. Engaging us. Enticing us by leaving clues to our history on the shore. Daring us to explore its dark fathoms to discover more. Violently submerging our idols when it has grown tired of our toxic behavior. Tides turn, crash and bend. Evaporate and ascend. Only to begin anew...as raindrops on my window.