We are born in water, our naked bodies slipping
into the world from our caul into dryland, opening
our pores, our senses, our eyes, power like rivers to sea.
We are not so different from earth, our renewal
is the sound of rain, drops reflecting light on budding leaf,
life source, liquid vein, exaltation drenching fledgling roots.
Breathe, after rain on hot days, heat rising from forest floors,
wet petrichor, leaves us wanting more, fire-gold union of water
and land, the arrival of sun’s rapturous rotation radiates life.
How could we forget our life source for big business money,
oil poisoning us, piping, fracking, more oil for blood?
How could we take down mountains where rivers once meandered?
Water pounds on corrugated roof, a drumbeat of greeting.
My catchment tank is full, I shout, “Yes!” and clap, always thankful
for the gift, falling freely from the sky, in my father’s name.
Water of Life