Have you seen water stand on itself?
Bubbling past its rim
And then hold it’s self, half dome
A whole universe within.
Sometimes a drop will meet another
And then meet a handful more
And they each envelope a color
Different for every drop to store
The darkest part is in the middle
A speckle of almost half black
And these are pupils of all the colors
To look in and out, forward and back.
With time they all forgot they were water
And believe in only their found color
And where they place their eyes
Their colors start to show.
The tandem witnessing and making
Only half of the process did they know.
Then some dots declared
“We are clear and empty
And instruments of the divine
We have not our own purpose
It all is God’s, nothing is mine.”
A drop child, tiny and fresh
Said, “I may only be a tear”
“But, that does not discredit
All that I hold dear.”
“I think and I dew,
I may not be all knowing,
But I am too!”
The dots replied sarcastically, “Says you.”
But this moment is suspended,
Waiting for those to understand,
those to say "How true."
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