puisi tentang refleksi masa depan
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Drip in the Bucket
I write lists, words on paper,
items that drift away,
like rain on a rooftop,
dripping into a waiting bucket.The ink smudges, blurs the lines,
I wonder if I should care,
as I watch the water collect,
filling spaces that once were dry.I, from tomorrow, glance back,
at the notes I never used,
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A Drip in the Quiet
A quiet shop, the air hangs still,
Mother’s fingers brush through colors,
Each fabric tells a different tale,
Gentle drips echo from the roof.I stand beside her, future’s gaze,
Watching her choose with careful eyes,
The world outside a muted storm,
While inside, courage whispers low.Gentle rhythm of water meeting
The old bucket, …