From one drop to
the formation of a puddle to
the carving of a ditch to
the creation of a stream into
a rushing gorge that becomes
a wide-open space where the river meets the ocean.
Sweat tears of the sea carried by the clouds high above birthing into the droplets of pure laughter and love.
The river flows from the mountains from one place of the unknown earth to the safest and most devastating ground…from the pristine to the sick waters, we are all made of it.
Sick and beautiful all at the same time.
We are dragged, drug, to cleanse is its whole purpose
*To follow the path to be of water is the most glorious journey.*
The only war left is the fight for the magic that water has,
the only way we can understand it is when it dries or it gets polluted then and only then can we understand.
From the farmers, landowners to the simple man in a suit simple truth we all need water.
Water can heal the sick or take away the dead.
Give life in all the directions, always forgiving, never taken but forming, fighting to push its strength its teachings on us…
Only the strength, clever, and cunningness of water can stop water,
we are not in charge in the end, water is.