Skytears Poem by M. Bloom

It solemnly soars down to the
Treetops, the lampposts, the bald head
Of the eremite who walks by
Soaking in nature's monochrome

It splashes upon the shingles
Falling from heaven to the panes
That separate us from the world
Gripping for life on the clear glass
Yet slowly sliding down in time—
Like a tear from the little boy
Who learns nothing perfect can last—
Into its playful puddle mass

The grey beings in the heavens
Cast them down, down towards the ceilings—
Sometimes with sweet pattering sounds
Sometimes with a godly booming...

How did the silver lining snap
And cast all hope into the gale
But puts harmony in the blooms
To soak the world in complete perfection

Before its abrupt finale