The power of water
By Yutka
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In the cradle of waves,
we emerged,
eighty percent liquid,
a dance of molecules,
a consciousness of water,
flowing through our veins,
echoing the ancient tides.
Tears,
sacred droplets,
washing the dead,
purifying sorrow,
a quiet baptism of grief,
as spring waters,
feminine and nurturing,
rise from the earth's embrace,
mineral whispers,
telling tales of resilience.
Yet rain,
masculine force,
can rage unchecked,
if love’s energy is bound,
it carves valleys of despair,
destruction in its wake,
a tempest of unspent longing.
In every droplet,
the interconnectedness blooms,
beauty revealed,
crystals reflecting intention,
good or bad,
we shape the waters,
and the waters shape us,
a sacred cycle,
the pulse of existence.
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Comments
Your poem evokes the
Your poem evokes the boundless connection we have with water, with the beauty, and also the harshness, from the moment we're conceived.
I like the lines:-
Crystals reflecting intention,
good or bad,
we shape the waters,
and the waters shape us,
a sacred cycle,
the pulse of existence.
Those lines are full of wisdom.
Jenny.
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That's very interesting and
That's very interesting and no I've never heard of this. Thank you for sharing.
Jenny.
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Water
feminine and nurturing
masculine force
good or bad
Birth or death... so many contrasting features but water is always part of us.
I love how your words emphasise the extent to which our world and our lives are dependent on this thing that we so often take for granted..
Turlough
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