Have you wondered from where your water flowed?
The refreshing sips from a bottled or glass,
that splashing stream from your shower stall?
I do, with heart felt gratitude.
Here’s an Ode to every sparkling drop.
First one, then two, in torrents you fall
Recycling streams above, below
You rain from Heaven down to Earth
Tell me my friend where have you been.
A drop of water is never lost
From place to place it moves around
Shape shifting in a weather maze
On cloudy days with rainy ways
Recycling, only to fall again.
Collecting in the flesh, and mud
Digesting in every creature’s gut
Moistening roots of trees and shrubs
Filling springs and rivers, gurgling brooks
Then rising again as mist and haze.
Upon glacial mountain peaks great stores
In stack and stocks of melting ice
Meandering in streams from far and wide
Over hills and dales through bend and turn
Absorbing the richness of the land.
Journeying through the veins of Earth
In a maze of caves along tunnel floors
To cool fresh spring to bubbling brooks
A gushing stream with a brisk fast run
Through river banks past fertile woods.
From a gentle hum to a bellowing roar
Then a tumbling drop down rocky slopes
A picturesque foaming white-water flow
With high and lows and middle tones
Reflecting the glories of every scene.
The greens of spring and summer’s dreams
Flame colors of autumn and winter’s freeze
The slush and whites of winters ice
Then the thaw and mud when the heat returns
The blacks and browns of cities and towns.
A mighty river flowing along
Branching, dancing, merging again
Reflecting the colors of sky land
The fertile fields and county sights
Teaming with a rich, rich aqua life.
In crystal lakes and man made dams
A collection of drops to be bottled or tapped
Littered with the waste from miles around
Tattered with foam and well washed stones
On the way to the sea, to every home.
A conference pooled from cities and towns
Then a twisting run along metal pipes
Well washed and cleaned to sparkle again
Destination marked for places unknown
To my water tap my chlorinated drink.
To wash a little this or that
To flush a toilet here and there
To cook and clean the worst of things
The good and bad in every land
Then pumped through the system once again.
Poetry by Kulanga
Read 880 times
Written on 2007-11-08 at 00:28
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The refreshing sips from a bottled or glass,
that splashing stream from your shower stall?
I do, with heart felt gratitude.
Here’s an Ode to every sparkling drop.
Water works
From whence you come clear sparkling dropFirst one, then two, in torrents you fall
Recycling streams above, below
You rain from Heaven down to Earth
Tell me my friend where have you been.
A drop of water is never lost
From place to place it moves around
Shape shifting in a weather maze
On cloudy days with rainy ways
Recycling, only to fall again.
Collecting in the flesh, and mud
Digesting in every creature’s gut
Moistening roots of trees and shrubs
Filling springs and rivers, gurgling brooks
Then rising again as mist and haze.
Upon glacial mountain peaks great stores
In stack and stocks of melting ice
Meandering in streams from far and wide
Over hills and dales through bend and turn
Absorbing the richness of the land.
Journeying through the veins of Earth
In a maze of caves along tunnel floors
To cool fresh spring to bubbling brooks
A gushing stream with a brisk fast run
Through river banks past fertile woods.
From a gentle hum to a bellowing roar
Then a tumbling drop down rocky slopes
A picturesque foaming white-water flow
With high and lows and middle tones
Reflecting the glories of every scene.
The greens of spring and summer’s dreams
Flame colors of autumn and winter’s freeze
The slush and whites of winters ice
Then the thaw and mud when the heat returns
The blacks and browns of cities and towns.
A mighty river flowing along
Branching, dancing, merging again
Reflecting the colors of sky land
The fertile fields and county sights
Teaming with a rich, rich aqua life.
In crystal lakes and man made dams
A collection of drops to be bottled or tapped
Littered with the waste from miles around
Tattered with foam and well washed stones
On the way to the sea, to every home.
A conference pooled from cities and towns
Then a twisting run along metal pipes
Well washed and cleaned to sparkle again
Destination marked for places unknown
To my water tap my chlorinated drink.
To wash a little this or that
To flush a toilet here and there
To cook and clean the worst of things
The good and bad in every land
Then pumped through the system once again.
Poetry by Kulanga
Read 880 times
Written on 2007-11-08 at 00:28
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Rob Graber |
