The rain, the hail, the fog and the snow, Where do they come from and where do they go? This is the tale about tiny bright drop That gleams at the flower before it gets hot. In summer garden the purple rose grows, The night slowly sparkles as shooting star glows. The nightingale song slowly floats in the air Attracting the cat’s under tree hungry stare. The first lights of dawn wake flowers and leaves, And tiny bright drop on the rose under trees. “Hello morning sunshine!” the robin bird said. Amazed, tiny drop only whispered instead: “How lovely the sun and the rose and the bird, That sings morning songs I have never heard!” The bright morning sun was rising up higher, It made the air warmer and everything drier. The sun winked at rose through leaves of the trees. “Beware of the heat!” warned wise hoopoe’s tweets. The cat looked at hoopoe and hoopoe’s got quiet. He flew to the pine tree to thoughtfully hide. The tiny bright drop dried smaller and smaller, And turned into steam as the weather got warmer. It flew to the sky, to the sun, to the clouds, Away from the rose and all garden sounds. There were other drops steamed away in the sky, Telling each other where they were and why. The big hungry hawk screamed hunting around: “Beware of the storm!” – he flew to the ground. The stormy wind blew and pushed clouds together, It cooled them to raindrops – and made rainy weather. The drop fell down back to the ground in the lawn, It leaked into soil to thunderstorm’s growl. It was very dark, very cold, very sad, The rain made the lawn deep inside very wet. The minutes and hours and days passed by, The dark deep cold soil was wet, didn’t dry. The more drops are waiting the more they forget The little bright journey they earlier had. No matter how long and boring and dark One day all drops wake up with first sunrise spark. The dawn comes again and wakes after nigh The drop on the flower with kisses of light. The drop full of beauty reflected inside, Was brave and was grateful and quietly sighed: “How lovely the sun and the flowers and field, The sunshine warms me up without any guilt!” The morning is simple, the meaning is deep: The Life is a circle – to wake up and sleep.
