The drop

A drop dripped into me and I am a drop dripping. Drop, drop dripping life.

I’m a drop in and of all the oceans.

Clouds. Swamps. Ponds. Lakes. Streams. Rivers.

I’m a drop landing on a leaf, rolling down the leaf, falling, flying through the air, landing on the next leaf. Landing, rolling, falling, flying till I land on the forest floor.

I collect.

I lose myself in something. I find myself in something.

I’m in a puddle reflecting the city.

I’m a tear rolling down a cheek. Mine. Yours.

Through the tensity of this little drop I can see the world around me. Sense the whole world. I melt into what touches me. I merge with what touches me.

I’m a drop of blood. A drop of milk. A drop of sweat. A drop of spittle. I’m a tear.

I’m a tear. I’m a drop of life.

I’m a drop of life, lovingly holding death’s hands hello.

I’m a drop dripping, getting dropped. I’m for a flower. I’m for the trees. I’m for you. I’m for me. I’m to drink. I’m for growth. Viva la vida Frida!

The ugly, the beauty, the angry, the happy, the loud, the unheard.

I’m the spilled. I’m the splashed.

The hum. The hymn. The howl.

I’m small. I’m vast.

I’m dripping in the peripheral venous catheters of the hospitals.

And I’m in the dew of the morning.

Related Blogposts

Sad Dancer is an ancient soul. In this life she was born in a family without memories. She dances slowly in circles searching for a language, a voice, a belonging. Evoking lost memories and longings. The strange boy with wrinkles in his face. The man who can not die, can…

I’m traveling today. Shaded by Gorm’s old hat, I’ve traversed through wind & water to reach Sisters Hope Home. My period arrived as soon as my feet left land. My mind lingers, perhaps lost back at sea. The cycle begins on my first day in Sisters Hope Home. Hope and…