Almost Never Was

The water in your glass is ageless and timeless. It has been around the world. It has filled the ocean, washed over rocks, sustained life, and quenched the thirst of saints and madmen. It has memory, and it responds to gratitude, love, reverence. It responds to melody. It responds to bitterness and anger. Experiments have been performed that show this is true. Its structure changes. Water that is loved and appreciated grows sweeter, brighter. It forms beautiful crystals. Water that is subjected to turmoil results in a darker, disorganized pattern. Which would you drink? Which would you rather give your family, your friends, your garden, the animals in your care?

April 8, 2021

Almost Never Was

Through the kitchen window,
the cat, watching me drink a glass of water.

Through the kitchen window,
me, watching the cat, watching me.

Through the kitchen window,
the cat, watching me, watching him, watching.

Through the kitchen window,
a man, holding a glass emptied of water,
but full of everything else there is,
rushing in and out so quickly,
it appears there is nothing,
worth watching.

The cat, watches on.

The man, disappears,
thinking, he might be a window of sorts.

The cat, disappears,
watching, what might have been,
and, almost, never was.

That, too, disappears.

The rain, raining on, rains on rain.

Cat windows. Corn fields. Day dreams. Winter loves.

Recently Banned Literature, January 12, 2015

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