It pours from faucet with force of a dream,
runs over rocks with shimmer, glassy sheen
that transfixes eye, hypnotizes your
wandering thoughts which suddenly migrate
to topographical caverns unknown.
Water: the quintessential dream of dreams
which composes most of our body mass,
remains a mysterious element.
Why is water both heavy and flowing?
Why do our minds work like a waterfall
processing, churning numbers, floating words
like frayed mottled leaves in a rural stream?
Without water we cannot go further.
Even the essence of love is water.