Physics or magic

The water droplets that are trapped inside a glass, that is draining on the kitchen counter, make a sound.

As the water transforms magically from H2O into plain old O, the sound of the transition travels.

What a journey!

Like jars clanking and rattling on a tray, or a creek from a water pipe somewhere in the building, or a submarine sinking, or a nuclear reactor echoing.

Drip, drip, drip, and transform!

The shower dribbles, and the water on the inside of the window slides, and this movement goes unseen, while the spider plants dance to the piano music from next door. 

Bed bugs bite, but tell me, do they snore? 

There is more microbial life on an eyelash than these eyes of ours will ever see.  At least, not in this universe.

If I designed a universe, I would keep water.

I would offer classes for tender heartedness to the autumn leaves; wet muggy leaves and dry, crispy, flying ones. 

I would invent biscuits, tea, photographs, and cats. 

In the end, love is all there is, and the rest is distraction. 

You know that! 

Or you knew it once, but you have forgotten. 

Laughter with a friend, a picnic near a river, skating, and a song you can’t stop singing.  Nothing you can buy or own, but you keep them safe, for reviewing. 

A dream of a memory remains a dream.

Remember them back, they’re yours.

Is that physics or magic, or must it decide?

Listen to the leaves, they might know.