The choice

 Watching a drop of rain on my window

Rainbows form and float away

With life

and smiles and song.

Will they come back? Regrow in the next drop? Or the next? 

I don't seem to know the world outside the rain drop on my window.

I move my head and the drop looks larger

I lose the rainbows but I gain space.

And some of the smiles come back

And a melody. Quiet.

Rainbows or space? That one drop or another? Rain or sunshine?

The choice is mine.