I must admit
I don’t know much about you
The first ocean in which I’ve ever swam
You were there in my mother’s womb
And every other home in which I’ve ever lived
I drink you
And you consume me
I cook with you
From pieces of your soul
I feed my children
And we bathe in your arms
Watching as you carry us
Water
Invisible
Yet nurturing
I know not what you are
Not exactly
I think you’re spiritual
Because you left your DNA in my skin
Your truth dripping as it clung onto my bones
Like breath of life escaping my lips
A misty cloud
A forehead kiss
Or a mother’s smile
And the world is yours to conquer
When she winks her eye
And you know you got this
You’re there to fulfill all our needs
A spiritual fluid
That man has not fully understood
Like heaven right here on Earth
Miracles
In the desert
If I could bottle hope
I imagine it’ll look something like you
If I could taste on my lips expectation
I imagine paradise would taste
Something like you
If truth could be wrapped up in one word
If hope could manifest itself
So we know what it looks like
I’d sum it up using one word
The only word with the power to both nourish
and destroy
To hurricane wrath
And to quench thirst
If I could touch the substance
of this expectation
I imagine it is hope
Like
Water.
The PBS Blog 