The fountain
wears the water
like a dress.
The liquid
cascades down
the beautiful curves
of the piece.
Each brick,
Each chisel,
Each chip,
rebounds the water
in a different direction
until the droplets
plunk into the pool
below.
Those poor droplets
that reach the bottom
give off a melancholy cry
for help
as it falls from
the fountains surface
and into the pool
where it sits
and waits
to be sucked into the fountain's journey
one more time.

I am one.
One of the droplets.
I wait for you
to suck me in
so you can launch me
into your great endeavor.
And I treasure
each time
I land on you
but you cause me
to bounce off
again,
and again,
and again,
until I'm just
part of the pool
again.