Drops of life

What's reflected in the small rain drops,
In the morning's blissful dew,
It's the image of our lives,
That we always complain of;
And they seem to wonder why,
Trembling in the soft wind
Down a leaf and hanging on it's edge
Showing a last pure image,
Giving this world another look,
Maybe this time they'll see what's wrong,
But in the sunshine their sparkle seems a smile
And they only show the beauty,
Charming whoever would see the image
Of a true world we're suppose to love,
Like the drops do in their short lives,
Because it's been given to us to enjoy it,
To do what's good every day,
Take all those small charming pieces of it
And make our own enchanting place.