Teardrops

May 18th

Every raindrop is a recycled memory of every other raindrop that this one was ever in touch with. A memory of every ocean, every sea, every river, every lake, every stream, every pond, and every puddle. A memory of every season of every year of every generation of every and all ages. A memory of every frost, every snowflake, every ice cube, every avalanche. A memory of every rain, every storm, every squall, every monsoon, every flood. A memory of every grain of sand, every soil, every root and leaf of every plant ever-existing, every cell needing fuel for photosynthesis. A memory of every thirst ever quenched, every drop of blood pulsating in any living being, every sweat on the tired brow, every deep and passionate exhale. And a memory of every teardrop rolling down the cheek.

And every teardrop is a recycled memory of every single moment of every single being, of every single moment of time. A memory of everything that ever happened to everybody ever. And yet, every teardrop feels so personal and unique to every person shedding it at that moment. And every shed teardrop adds to a collective memory of every happiness, every pain, every joy, every anger, every loss, every gain, every triumph, and every failure. Even the smallest teardrop, evaporating on skin or quickly brushed aside with a top of a hand, is a memory encompassing the totality of being and life and emotion. And every teardrop will eventually become a raindrop, nourishing or quenching or destroying the totality of what is and ever will be.

Or it will be just a pleasant sensation of summer raindrops allowed to roll down the face, creating a fresh memory of bliss and oneness with everything. Which is just as important.