57% by mass*

57% by Mass

Loch Earn, August 2013
©sds

(Heliopause 3)

Water yearns for flux.
Hesitant tarns
Squat in isolation
Until wind-fetched
And stirred to chop.

A memory of movement,
When once upon an ocean,
Rising lifted upward vapour
Welled up,
And wept aloft.

To swell the belly of heaven.
Air born, smir birthed, con-densed.
Then free-fallen,
And freshly luminant.
Swaddled by blanket bog,
Soaked into Browning peat,
The simple beauty got.

Held hard-bound white to
A northern season’s passion of mourning weeds,
A single distillation of loss,
Of love,
And life,
And light.

Wait.

And bide.
And rest.
And long and linger.
Tan in tannin dreams until time unexpected,
Burns your reserve into molten life.

Then seep.
And squeeze,
And start to flow.
And so, so suddenly –
Burst!

To salutations of larks unlooked for
Descant once more above
An outpoured tumble, a
Turbulent drone of incoherence,
Reeling highland anticipation,
Water
Of life.

.

.

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*one estimate of the percentage of water in an ‘average’ human body.

About stevedsmart

Steve Smart is an information designer, poet and artist. View all posts by stevedsmart

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