Water

Water in a person's hand
Photo by Samad Deldar on Pexels.com

As the heat dries, my body cries

Water, water, it screams

Burning with fever, why water itself seems like a fever dream.

As the heat dies, I feel so thankful for my life,

With a tap that runs clean, with a fridge that holds ice within,

Like a queen of old, I call myself wanting-

But moments like remind me I am rich-

At least, I can drink and quench my thirst,

In this heat,

I have shelter,

And so I ask within me,

Can’t I do something? Write a verse, perhaps?

In between my rest?

To remind people- we are rich, if we are here,

And we can uplift others whom we go near,

Maybe we can’t help all,

After all no man is an island or so I was told,

But if we all tried to give back to the one Mother-

the land that feeds us,

and took care of those children whom she can’t seem to help,

Perhaps…we would gain a friend or two

As long as are safe about this too-

And then someone at Finding Sanity would have a girl-pal to water her tiny trees,

You would have someone who would love to babysit your dog- even if it’s paid for,

And we would talk more, read more, laugh more.

Life would not be romanticized anymore,

It would be romantic.

Just like poetry.

But what do I know?

Burning with fever, red like volcanic rock, it’s time for me to get off the screen,

And hydrate,

As they say, sometimes a hint is enough,

Especially for those with ears intending to listen.

Author’s Note: I love confessional poetry…and yes, I love water stations where in this heat, everyone has access to water. Sure, there are some crunchy issues with said water, but at least we aren’t thirsty.

I got the flu…recovered and was burnt out…and then caught something again, which is why I have been MIA and will be sporadic depending on my bandwith…so thanks for sticking around until I learn content stockpiling.

Oh and if you wish to support my work, you can go subscribe to- The Brown Journal(s) for sustainability or check my Buy Me a Coffee. No pressure, just a comment makes my day, and if this poem inspires you to help someone in need, that’s a job well-done.

(Phew! Why are my author notes so long?)