The rain was falling quickly now, caressing the rooftops on their reckless descent to the streets. The life of a raindrop is both endless and short-lived. The first thing it knows of is falling, rolling off a cloud and plummeting quickly. It passes through the cold atmosphere and slowly enters the warmer city sky. It seems like forever before it crashes into the pavement, but once it does it has no choice but to swirl around here, mixed into a puddle on the street.
How often have the same raindrops landed on my cheek? If the water cylcle on this world is finite then these raindrops fell on our ancestors too. This is our true legacy then, to touch the rain for our lifetime and send it back to the sky with our fingerprints and energy. Long after our lives have been forgotten, maybe the rain we felt will fall on other people too. Maybe they too will wonder about who felt the rain before them. Maybe we are the rain.