Updated: Jul 25, 2021
I want to be like water. It always has a purpose. It always has somewhere to go, something to be a part of. Gushing along, moving, moving, moving to nourish life.
It carries with it the world. It can change mountains and determine the future. It moves rapidly, losing big boulders first, then the sand. It leaves its mark, material or otherwise, to remind you it was there.
In a deep, leaf-layered pond, it shows you the world. A world reflected off with added glints and gleams that reality cannot capture. It adds a cheery perspective to everything. Elsewhere, its gleeful babbling reminds you that there’s laughter out there.
If I was water, I’d be the type that’s always running by. The type that chirps a friendly “How’d you do?” before it carries on to somewhere else. It knows when it has been sorely missed, and rejoices as the dancing welcomes it back.
I cannot say I am like water today, but its patient company reminds me that there’s always a tomorrow.