Condensation looks at me
with eyes that mimic all,
disfigured and transparent
reflects in constant fall.

The end is never known
until the ripple swallows it,
such a tiny spec of life
defines its own personal pit.

It taught me a simple truth
of how an impact can be made,
no matter how small the drip
the impact swells all around.

The drip is part of a world
where conformity is an end,
that drip is now a pool
when it was so small at begin.

Dripping (Photo credit: kcolwell)



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s