fighting fire with water

if our souls are made of anything, i think they're made of water
in shape demand we not, in form as it wills and wanes.
by nature, reactive
still and quiet happy and splashing grieving and falls
torrents can pick it up
shifting ground can move it
rocks create ripples create rings create laps in perpetuum.

so, what choice have we? we, this watery soul
made of tears joy and shadowed
hope wet and desert-threaten dry.

we can choose only to be water
do our best to stay water
though the fire comes
and threatens to evaporate
everything we know
about water

Poetry ©aftethoughtcomposer

Photography © Rachel Baran Photography. Source. I will stop using photos from Rachel Baran when she ceases to amaze me. So, never.   Visit her on flickr or on facebook.