Pitter Patter of Raindrops

I am

The pitter patter of raindrops

On a window pane.

 

Where days pass

Like drops of rain

In a storm.

 

The drops fall

At first in soft glitters,

And we are in awe.

For the drops, like crystals from the heavens,

are beautiful,

 

But they fall faster,

And faster…

And faster…

 

The drops mend together like days.

The crystals

Are just drops now,

And we forget

How beautiful, and special, and unique

They could be.

 

And when the skies are slowly drying,

We look back and remorse,

For there were so many drops,

And so little cherished.

 

I am the pitter patter of raindrops

And together, I am a storm.

 

With every day a drop of water,

The sun is the start of new beginnings,

The pull of the blanket

Is a list

of things to do,

of things to happen,

of things to cherish.

 

Where

Each choice of wardrobe

Is a choice of expression.

Each spoonful of cereal,

A taste of sweetness.

Each ride to school,

A soft kiss of the breeze,

 

With every day a drop of water,

Each drop is something to cherish.

Something to love

Something to look forward to.

 

The twinkling of eyes

A burst of sunshine.

A smile,

The life of my eyes.

 

With every day a drop of water,

There is substance

to be lived,

To be thought,

To be felt.

 

I am the pitter patter of raindrops,

Where days pass

Like drops of rain

Sprinkling the land of the beach.

 

The sand between my toes

Remind me of the grains in my hourglass,

The oceans, of mystery,

The skies, of infinity.

 

Before the rain stops,

I want to feel

every grain of sand between my toes

Before it runs out,

And there is no more.

 

Before the rain stops,

I want to explore every crevice of the ocean,

I want to stop listening

And touch the water myself.

 

Before the storm ceases,

I want to reach for the skies,

Climb the mountains,

And see if I can fly.

 

Because when the storm dies,

My drops will evaporate,

And I will cease to exist.

 

All that can be remembered

Are the trees nourished,

The throats replenished,

And the skins’ cleanliness.

 

I am the pitter patter of raindrops,

But stronger,

I am the storm.

 

So I’ll be it,

And I’ll conquer.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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