As a Raindrop

I spent my life as a rain drop for a while
while normally I was a person.

While I was a raindrop I would drop sorrowfully
down the faces of "walker-by" types or even bystanders
standing by while I dropped somewhat slowly but soulfully.

Sometimes they'd sit solemnly on their benches as I dripped or drove
down their brow while they'd bow down to being down or
their sighs'd sound while I dripped down and I'd end up in their mouths.

Other times they'd stand outside coffee shops with umbrellas waiting with
worry and worrying wearily about where their 'other' was supposed to be
at three thirty, dutifully trying not to look too terribly.

But when I was a person and not a raindrop
things happened a bit differently:

When it rained - I would stare out my windows watching each drop
and trying to tap along with the rhythm but within my rhythm
was more rain willing to fall fast and out of key.

When it rained - I'd count the drops with numbers 'til my lips went numb
from counting too much but each numeral sounded softly like thunder as
rain dripped out from under each syllable.

But, sometimes, I'd just stare at a puddle. I'd see myself bounce around,
each ripple crashing into the other, creating more ripples and my reflection
would move. And I would just stand there, watching.