I held out my hand to the rain,

Saw the drop land,

Like a marble,

Glass, reflecting visions,

An eye in miniature,

Seeing the world,

Through a glistening lens,

A world caught in pause,

A second, maybe less,

Encapsulated in liquid form,

A teardrop on the face of time.

More rain now,

Washing away a memory,

The moment is lost,

Drowned by the monsoon,

Yet to a single drop,

How is that calculated,

My hand, wet,

I turn it over,

Seeing not rain but tears,

The world cries,

And I cry with it,

I raise wet hands,

To wet face,

Tears flow and mingle,

With those of a greater soul,

The world cries,

And no one is there,

To dry its tears.

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