I wanna be your glass of water. I wanna be the raindrop that fell from the cloud above our pastoral.

I wanna be the raindrop that traveled 22.5 km/h from the sky because the urge to stay close

was so visceral. I wanna be the raindrop that soaked the ground under your feet that holds you. I

wanna be the raindrop that trickled into your well & awaits your call. I wanna be the raindrop

that is summoned by our crickety faucet on the hottest of summer days. I wanna be the raindrop

that journeyed long through old rusty pipes just to touch your lips. I wanna be the raindrop you

invite in for relief; slipping down your parched esophagus. I wanna be the raindrop that

nourishes you inside out & grazes every cell. I wanna be the raindrop that has quenched all your

essential organs. I wanna be the raindrop that keeps you living. I wanna be the raindrop that

purges everything that no longer serves you back to the ground through humming ancient pipes.

I wanna be the raindrop that voyages back to the earth to be treated of impurities with no gripes.

I wanna be the raindrop that becomes clean so I can seek you again. I wanna be the raindrop

that is reintroduced back to the land you roam. I wanna be the raindrop that merges with the soil

our farmhouse & feet have always known. I wanna be the raindrop that coaxes green blades

from the ground in the spring. I wanna be the raindrop that feeds the grass that feeds the free-

range chickens you love as pets. I wanna be the raindrop that feeds the grass that feeds the

chickens who lay the eggs we cook every day for breakfast. I wanna be the glass that collects the 

raindrops on bleak days—more than half full, just raise me to your lips.