Groundwater, The Natures Blood Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

Beneath our feet, a hidden sea,
Where water waits, wild and free.
Fills empty spaces in the ground,
In soil and rock, it can be found.

When rain or snow falls from the sky,
It drains down deep, and by and by,
It hits a floor of solid clay,
And there the water now will stay.

The earth's a sponge, both deep and vast,
With empty pockets, built to last.
The line where all those holes are filled,
The water table, strong and stilled.

This water moves, but very slow,
Through sand and cracks, it starts to flow.
From mountain high to valley low,
A silent river, down below.

It feeds the lakes, it fills the streams,
It keeps them flowing, like our dreams.
But this great treasure has a cost,
If important balance, is ever lost.

We pump it out with mighty force,
And change the water's natural course.
The wells run dry, the levels fall,
We take too much, and risk it all.

The sun beats down, no rain arrives,
The land is thirsty, nothing thrives.
And when the storm clouds finally break,
The water runs off, for no good sake.

We cover the ground with hard concrete,
The rain and earth no longer meet.
We lead the water to the sea,
It'll never sink down, wild and free.

So guard the water, deep and still,
And use it with a careful will.
For what we take, we must give back,
Or leave the future's well to lack.