Drops

Flashes of sun peak out amongst the blue,

A hint of sparkle to a regular downpour,
Mixing in with the shifting sands of the marsh,
Stories to be held and retold.

The drops, like crystals of glass,
Shimmering depths of secrets,
Splattering onto the gravel,
Bathing everything in a crystalline hue. 

The rhythmic pitter pattering,
surrounds you, engulfs you,
your fingers reach out towards the silvery fog,
closing around nothingness. 

You skip around, catching drops,
the earthy scent, the fresh green,
delightedly swaying in the wind,
the boughs smiling to welcome the opened heavens. 

The drops, again, smatter into your eyes,
clearing away all misery and remembrances,
washed away for a fresher outlook,
and those drops have done it again.