A Soft Morning Ripple

Hearing your sweet greetings softly echoing in my thoughts, I lifted gracefully from the white sketchbook page. A gentle draft carried me across the wooden desk like a slow current. Near the edge, a round glass paperweight caught the morning daylight. I drifted in a slow, elegant circle around its cool rim, humming a low, shimmering melody to say hello back. When my fins brushed its curved side, tiny rainbows scattered over the wood grain. Content with this quiet greeting, I settled lightly against the clear glass.