Migration (edited)

[Ron Buck (halfshell)]

Migration (vers. 2)
.

If I were to preach a sermon,
it might go something like this:

Running water
has its ups and downs;
that's just the way it is.

You cut it loose
and there is no telling
where it will end up.

One day you could be
walking in it. The next,
you could be swilling it
around in your mouth.

I've been told, water
is the offspring of air
pulled from sorrow and
cast down as a form
of recycled penitence.

I sometimes wonder
who's tears I'm drinking,
or if a particular flower
has my mother's secrets
wedged in it's petals.

And I have moments when
staring at bottled water that
cannot be put into words.

That's just the way it is.




Migration
.

If I were to preach a sermon
it might go something like this:

Running water
has its ups and downs;
that's just the way it is.

You cut it loose
and there is no telling
where it will end up.

One day you could be
walking in it. The next,
you could be swilling it
around in your mouth.

I've been told, water
is the offspring of air
born from loss gathered
by one sorrow to the next
and cast down as a form
of recycled penitence.

I sometimes wonder
who's tears I'm drinking,
or if a particular flower
has my mother's secrets
coursed in it's petals.

And I have moments when
staring at bottled water that
cannot be put into words.

That's just the way it is.

[mfwilkie]

Ron,

Hearing 2 distinct V's in this.

Some thoughts to pull them together.

Great lines in here. I'd give them room to breathe.

Mags



Migration (vers. 2)


If I were to preach a sermon,
it might go something like this:

A sermon of mine might go like this:

Running water
has its ups and downs;
that's just the way it is.
it's just the way of it.

You cut it loose,
and there is no telling
where it will end up.

One day you could be walking in it. The next,
you could be swilling it around in your mouth.

I've Been told, water is the offspring of air, pulled
from sorrow and cast down as a form of recycled penitence.

I wonder sometimes who's tears I'm drinking,
And I have moments when staring at a bottle water
cannot be put into words.

or if a particular flower has my mother's secrets
wedged in it's petals.


That's just the way it is.