I caught a raindrop before the shower came,
or maybe it caught me,
my cupped hand I held out, so to tell
if the storm was on it’s way.
It’s landing left only the slightest touch,
and in an eyelid flick of time, it ran,
capturing odd tiny rays of light as it
coursed around callous and crease on
the miniature palm etched map .
From how high had this perfect pearl
fallen, only to be delayed in completing
it’s mission by my unexpected hand.
Undaunted, it slipped over my skin
to the ground, disappearing into that
beneath, to refresh the first crocus
as it struggled to arrive in spring time.