A Haunting of Waters

The year's spring rains were abundant, saturating and immersing us; a haunting of waters. Mother Earth accepted each downpour from her deep abode. Her bosom holds all earth's waters from brook to abyssal; arteries of creek and river, veins of lake and sea, heart of the oceans. She sees the clouds grow ripe, feels the coarse and driven wind, hears the weighty rumble of thunder, and waits for lightning's charge to unleash certain fury. She breaths deep in anticipation. A deluge pours forth, mixing with the soil and the elements; a baptism granting absolution to the earth. Mother Earth drinks her fill, passing the deluge of a night to the arteries of her being. Some of the cloudburst penetrates deep cracks and fissures in rock, replenishing well and aquifer. The purity of the gift restores the inmost parts of her being. A flood swells her arteries past bursting. Fertile soils and banks are lifted, carried and cast forth on new land. She bows, absorbing the water's challenge. Yet, each time her countenance is altered, if imperceptibly. She holds dominion over the waters, yet she shares them will all life and the eternal sky. Microbe and mountain. Sea creature and ocean deep. The infinite varieties of earth-bound life, and man. All are sustained, restored, and kept in stasis by the waters. A Haunting of Waters 6-17-14