I have recently returned from an overnight camping experience that renewed my belief that we all need to spend more time listening to the grand liturgy of the universe. After a full twenty-four hours of a beautiful sunset, a four winds campfire, starry skies, and a magically brilliant sunrise, the awe that was experienced by the children was humbling. It was proof indeed that the old adage: “children are healthier when in respectful contact with nature” was all too true.

Best of all was when those children passed our cosmic stories and their feelings on to their parents. It was one of those experiences that made me reflect on Gaugin’s three great existential questions: “From where did we come? What are we? To where are we going?”  A few days later, in a late night writing zone, this poem formed in my head and simply flowed out.

             The Song of Water

The song of water is the rhythm of our birth
It is the heartbeat of a warm salt ocean
In which we are the blind umbilicalled explorers.

The song of water is the rush
That pushes us out into the light
We cry for the loss of its warmth.
We cry in the room of sterile cold.

The song of water is bath time,
Bubbles and splashes and
Warm towels and snuggles.
We giggle with the water.

The song of water is the surge
Of waves on the shore, endlessly.
A rhythm that matches our heartbeat.
We listen and breathe a sigh of remembrance.

The song of water is a wild river,
Is an untamed coastline, is a
Quiet pond. is a drip of dew.
It is a thundering rainstorm!

And when we lay our head down
And take that last long, deep breath,
The sound of water is a song
That beats with our heart.

The song of water is the rhythm of our death
The slowing waves against the shore.
A quiet night, a soft wind. A deep sigh.

And silence.