Nibi

It is all around us.

The water.

Water is the beginning of our life, as we are cradled by water inside our mothers.

Water.

It can be quenching.

It drowns fires, tempers molten glass, and rests melted rock.

Water.

It can do so much.

Water can nourish plants,

It can quench the thirst of the desert,

Give shelter to the plants in their veins, the aquatic life.

Water can terraform.

It drips steadily to carve into stone,

It breaks and bends the blood of rivers,

It rusts and ruins the strength of iron.

Water.

Water is everywhere.

It flows like syrup through trees,

The sweet perfume of grass.

It trickles from the clouds above,

It wafts down, frozen and crystallized.

On days it hangs heavy like a shroud, blanketing the tips of mountains.

Water is loud.

It murmurs and bubbles over stones in its way.

It pitters and patters on tin roofs,

It roars from the strength of typhoons,

It bellows from the breath of hurricanes,

Or shouts over cliffsides, creating miniature edens.

Water is inside me.

It flourishes into my blood,

It escapes through my tears,

Water pebbles on heated skin.

It swells in breasts, transforming into milk.

It melts in my mouth, eager for something delicious.

Water is in you.

It is blood,

It is sweat,

Tears.

Water is the ichor of Gaia.

Water is life.