Raindrops

As if falling from the sky

They had stopped midway

And seized that moment too

For onlookers to marvel

Upon the chandelier above

They glistened on the trees

As the Sun shone across

Swaying in the breeze

Yet hanging on to each other

Were they judging the fall?

As if ending the moment

Only to make way for another

The bus rushed by 

And they showered down 

From their abode, gracefully.

As they lay on the ground

They came beneath hurried feet

And mingled with the brown

Only to adorn the Earth

That had been awaiting the fall.

I bent to collect some

The ones that lay untouched

To hold them in my fingers

And preserve them in pages

But they were too frail.

Just like raindrops.

Gracing the colour of joy

They justified their name

The flowers of the golden rain tree.