Sum of Silence

I am a puddle of rainwater,

slowly evaporating while I

reflect the world around me,

unsure of how

to move around freely:

—

the only movement I'm familiar with

is the occasional splash

or ripple on my surface,

—

and there's nothing I want more

than to pour myself out,

to mobilize

—

and no longer be this

still pool, separate

from all from all from all;

—

I fantasize

of flowing through

—

other water,

streams and rivers,

—

no longer just myself,

no longer just

the sum of my silence