This Wild Water Poem by Greg Gaul

What of this water, this reason, this rhyme
coursing over minds, our hands, our land;
that takes no shape yet changes for all time
waking to the wisdom for what is grand.

A symphony of atoms, pulses and flow -
the blood of rivers and world of oceans;
unlocks lofty language that we all know
to which we touch and pledge deep devotions.

The one thing one needs but cannot control
so primally part of our every day;
all life must bow to, while waves rise 'n roll
we wade in as we wash some sins away.

This water's wild power one tries to tame -
what forever force will we likely blame?





112 words Sonnet
10/15/2021
Copyright © Greg Gaul | Year Posted 2021