The Course of Water

The Course of Water

Confirmed by touch
Yet intrigued by its clarity,
Splashing around its coolness,
The infant meets water in total bewilderment.
This physical wonder soon grows
Into an object of endless play,
And with every downpour,
Voyaging on rivulets
By the front doors,
Are empty paper boats
On their self-navigated course.
While mother warns in vain
Of fevers that in the dampness lurk,
Water balloons, water guns, splash and spray
Who cares even if the books would float away.
Placid play then turns
Into furious adventure,
As the rushing white waters beckon.
Crying out madly at every surge,
Whirling and swerving, as though
To be liberated from some unseen fetters,
Until the fog restores quiet to the evening,
And romance invites a walk
Along the whispering shores,
Thoughts of sun-filled lands and waterfalls
Draws one to cruise the oceans of blue
To be met by palm trees and a watery shade,
And sounds of glaciers reaching a tumultuous end.
Now the stillness of frigid air hurts the bones,
The ceaseless murmur of the waves
Echo the loneliness
As faint memories and the distant sunset
Now beckon to merge with the sea.

SR