Water trickled over my forehead.
Now accepted, a daughter-child of God,
to follow dogma. Water legislated
to make it so.
Water sprayed over your writhing body
gasping for air. You are the enemy –
of who, of what – a child of men
who play God, make rules.
Water to cleanse. Water to heal.
Water tumbled from sky
spawning streams, swelling rivers.
Men piped oil defiling you.
Our ancient family stands strong
with you in gratitude, they affirm.
Water is Spirit, dewdrop
in spring, snowflake in
winter, fall’s foggy drift,
May we dwell in unity
and wisdom and gratitude
under your benefaction.
The grace of water, the gift of life.
Today’s prompt from NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo:
“And now for our (optional) prompt. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that looks at the same thing from various points of view. The most famous poem of this type is probably Wallace Stevens’ “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”. You don’t need to have thirteen ways of looking at something – just a few will do!”