Clear as Day

This is just some simple poem I wrote regarding...well that is something you have to figure out yourself I believe.

A drop of water, clear and perfect. Taken by gravity it plummets down, innocent in all its glory. Another drop, clearer than the first. Reflecting the emptiness around. Twisting it to its own dimensions. Now two drops, perfect synergy, identical shape and form. Three, four, five drops. Multiple, beyond counting. A stream of crystal clear water. 

Something moves out of view, a drape being pulled aside, plastic. Someone steps in on the area, feet showing. The water continue to drop. Yet not crystal clear nor clear. Dirt mixes with its pureness, more and more. Brown liquid, the darkness has its upper hand. Nothing is innocent in its presence, nothing is clear. Only dark. 

Yet something breaks this darkness, the person walks out of the area. The water stops, no filth passes down any longer, yet nothing clear either. Complete stillness, sound of a person cleaning himself out of view. Pulls back the drapes. View moving up, knobs come in view, turned to off. Further upwards.

The Nozzle of the shower comes in view, silent and dormant. Nothing clear and perfect, just nothing.

Then, a drop, clinging on to the edge of the nozzle. It is ready. It is clear, it is…perfect.

It drops, taken by gravity it plummets down, innocent in all its glory. No other influence, no other disruption. Pure liquid.

Author's Note

Leave your comments if you have any thoughts regarding this text and what the meaning may be to you.