we are all made of water.
it’s okay to rage. sometimes
it’s okay to rest. to recede.
Beloved, let us once more praise the rain.
Let us discover some new alphabet, For this, the often praised; and be ourselves, The rain, the chickweed, and the burdock leaf, The green-white privet flower, the spotted stone, And all that welcomes the rain; the sparrow too,- Who watches with a hard eye from seclusion, Beneath the elm-tree bough, till rain is done.
There is an oriole who, upside down, Hangs at his nest, and flicks an orange wing,- Under a tree as dead and still as lead;
There is a single leaf, in all this heaven Of leaves, which rain has loosened from its twig: The stem breaks, and it falls, but it is caught Upon a sister leaf, and thus she hangs;
There is an acorn cup, beside a mushroom Which catches three drops from the stooping cloud.
The timid bee goes back to the hive; the fly Under the broad leaf of the hollyhock Perpends stupid with cold; the raindark snail Surveys the wet world from a watery stone...
And still the syllables of water whisper:The wheel of cloud whirs slowly: while we wait In the dark room; and in your heart I find One silver raindrop,-on a hawthorn leaf,- Orion in a cobweb, and the World.
–Conrad Aiken (1889-1973)
Beloved of the rivers, beset
by azure water and transparent drops,like a tree of veins your spectreof dark goddess biting apples:and then awakening nakedto be tattooed by the rivers,and in the wet heights your headfilled the world with new dew.
Water rose to your waist,You are made of wellspringsand lakes shone on your forehead.From your sources of density you drewwater like vital tearsand hauled the river-beds to the sandacross the planetary night,crossing rough, dilated stone,breaking down on the wayall the salt of geology,cutting through forests of compact wallsdislodging the muscles of quartz.
I am dotted silver threads dropped from heaven
By the gods. Nature then takes me, to adorn
Her fields and valleys.
I am beautiful pearls, plucked from the
Crown of Ishtar by the daughter of Dawn
To embellish the gardens.
When I cry the hills laugh;
When I humble myself the flowers rejoice;
When I bow, all things are elated.
The field and the cloud are lovers
And between them I am a messenger of mercy.
I quench the thirst of one;
I cure the ailment of the other.
The voice of thunder declares my arrival;
The rainbow announces my departure.
I am like earthly life, which begins at
The feet of the mad elements and ends
Under the upraised wings of death.
I emerge from the heard of the sea
Soar with the breeze. When I see a field in
Need, I descend and embrace the flowers and
The trees in a million little ways.
I touch gently at the windows with my
Soft fingers, and my announcement is a
Welcome song. All can hear, but only
The sensitive can understand.
The heat in the air gives birth to me,
But in turn I kill it,
As woman overcomes man with
The strength she takes from him.
I am the sigh of the sea;
The laughter of the field;
The tears of heaven.
So with love -
Sighs from the deep sea of affection;
Laughter from the colorful field of the spirit;
Tears from the endless heaven of memories.
The wafer like object featured above is a diatom.
It was taken from a water sample in the Gulf of Maine and is seen here edge on,
as observed through a microscope — think of viewing a galaxy edgewise in a telescope.A diatom is an aquatic, photosynthetic algae.
This one is about 100 microns across; approximately the width of a human hair.Aquatic plants constitute 10 percent of the Earth’s biomass and may produce
as much as 50 percent of the Earth’s oxygen.Diatoms may also be very significant in the field of nanotechnology;
they produce micro-scale valves that may, someday, be components in solar panels on our roofs.These little creatures appear in the fossil record as far back as the Jurassic Period –
more than 144 million years ago.