“Reflection in the Puddle”

When one thinks of a puddle, He thinks of rain.
But, did ever one stop and think?
How deep does the puddle go?
Where did the water come from?
True, it came from the rain.
But where did the rain water come from?

Puddles may be small and unassuming,
At the same time,
They are enigmatic.
What secrets do these puddles hold?
How often have they been noticed?
Trampled?
Dried?
And then moistened all over again,
A cycle anew.

A puddle can measure a man.
By looking into it,
He can see himself.
In all his glory,
His moment of triumph.

Or, in when his life in down,
He has no where to turn.
Except to the little puddle of rain water,
Sitting on the side of the road.