An Earthly Composition of Melodies

"An Earthly Composition of Melodies"

The birds sing sweet melodies. Sharp, staccato notes pierce through the air like little toothpick-sized arrows. The little archers don't intend pain though, their songs are for sport. Their songs are for the air. Their songs are for conversation. Their songs are for their friends. Their songs are for themselves.

The rain comes. 

Some birds seek shelter in their homes with family snuggling in close and warm all of them taking a break from their lives of no schedules. 

Other birds see the droplets falling from the heavens as an opportunity to dance a lovely waltz with their friends. Quickly the structured and solemn waltz melds with a chaotic celebration of joy and singing. They splash in little oceans and soak up the rain how most enjoy soaking up the rays of the sun. They ruffle their feathers and clean themselves in the rain water. 

The rain. Slowly spiraling down. One little drop opens its eyes for the first time... Well, one of its many first times. Many journeys it has been on. Many truths it has seen... Many lies. 

This one little drop has seen the deepest, darkest, depths of an ocean with creatures only seen by the eyes of imagination. It has rushed down the side of a mountain passing trees and animals, the changing altitude changing its very being as it glides quickly downward with gravity.  It has collided with other droplets in a backyard summer water fight that all the neighborhood children have joined in, seeing the beginnings of many lifelong friendships. It has been a beautiful snowflake floating towards the city on the first day of snow as hundreds in child like wonder--both young and old--watched its opening dance number as if they had never seen snowfall before. It has been a part of the cooling cloth in the hand of a kind nurse that wiped off the fevered sweat from a dying soldier's forehead during WWII. It has been one of many tears wept from a mother who lost her child. It has been the single tear shed in joy from a father on his daughter's wedding day. 

Those don't even begin to tell the life story of this little drop of water. 

Fluttering its eyelids its vision clears and it sees the earth coming closer, and closer, and closer, and closer... There is always a sinking feeling in one's stomach at this point. The rush. The thrill. The adrenaline running through. The fear. The excitement. 

But as quickly as the terror of the decent began, it ends. 

This drop only looks back on its life during the fall to earth. It lives in moments and during the moments. Satisfied and always accepting new adventures. Here it inches closer to the ground, then it finally rests on the back of a little yellow bird. The bird flaps its wings and the little drop rolls off its back onto the ground and streams away into a larger puddle on the road. 

The little rain shower stops as quickly as it began.

 The birds in hiding come out and sing once more. This time their songs are calling across the trees to their friends who stayed out in the rain. They all rush over to the mini pools in the grass. They dive their heads in and clean themselves with the freshly fallen precipitation, clearing off the dirt smudging their feathers. They sing and dance all joining in the rejoicing this time as the sun pulls back its curtain and light shines through its windows again. The birds sing louder with a melody sweeter still as they soak up the sun in exchange for the rain. Sun beams fall to the earth as the water droplets get taken back up to the sky to return later. 

The rhythm of the world intertwined with melodies...

The symphony of the rain and birds...

The concerto of the sun...

Conducted by the amazing Composer.

By Winter Burnett      March 9, 2016