The water cycle
Day 30
An icicle forming above at the caves entrance
slowly as water from some unseen lake
had overrun and slithered
the water droplets followed one after another
falling just past each brother, each sister
each clung and held as they fell over
the mouth of the cave, holding frozen to top
staring downward
holding
more came tumbling
each over the others head
until at last no more siblings came
and all was still, winter reigned
days in and out
each droplet remembered
the blue sky, the warm succulent air, those tumbling white clouds
each remembered
the long falling
the joy of finding
each other
finding a home in the lake
full of life
fish splashing,
flowers lazily doing backstroke
grass reeds waving in sober wind
then one remembered the spill
the cold race down the hill
praying not to stop
but now its prayer was different
the frozen droplet missed the sky
days recycled nights and back again
yet each brother and sister held firm as the last
until finally one morning
the clouds that hid the sun repented
each droplet looked out and remembered the orange
the warm glow, the radiant sunlight
each felt their bodies warm
felt their tired hold release
splick
splick
splat
each sibling let go
laying before the cave
the sun rose
each dissipated floating back to the sky together
I hold back a lot of what my mind see's just because I never know what sounds like art and what sounds ill. Even in saying that I don't know what art is. What poetry really is. The words above mean something to me. They help me. But it just feels self serving.
If money is used to quantify skill – I have never made much from writing. It isn't what pays for a subscription to this blog.
Writing feels like an outlet and in that I guess it must be it's own reward
100DaysToOffload, visit and write more