This is a rough draft of a poem that I haven't attached a lot of meaning or sentiment to. But heck, someone might find it fun.
__________________________________________
I
sat and pondered a life lived as water
falling
from heaven to the ground
and
there plotting courses
to
the sea, from our sources
And
there, with frosted foam be crowned.
Some
flakes fall on mountains and highlands as snow
bright,
white, and lucid, clean and pure
melting,
oh so slowly
a
creek born so lowly
will
flow from snow'd peaks, swift and sure.
Many
fall on parched earth. in the dust and heat
in
a languished land without life
to
journey on, they try
but
ultimately die
or
live softly in the ground underneath feet
In
the wild lands of jungle and humid life
Upon
leaf, upon beast and bird
A
hard tropical rain
Makes
a loud, boastful claim
But
now lays lost, in swamp, unheard
These
raindrops I’ve seen, walking day to day paths
Dressed
in suits, some in rags, some jeans
They
move towards the ocean
Yet
notice no motion
Or
what life lived as water means.
This "someone" found it fun. Thanks.
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