The element's veil.

Water, a mirror to the soul’s ache,

Baptism and flood in the same embrace,

Life rises where its veins do wake,

Yet death lingers in its calmest face.

Oh, life, you ripple with tides unseen,

A gentle stream, or an ocean’s rage,

Your depths conceal what has never been,

A boundless book with no final page.

Drink deeply, they say, for life must grow,

Yet the drought of meaning parches the tongue,

We wade through currents we’ll never know,

Where the old remain, and the young die young.

Rivers carve paths, etching time in stone,

Yet currents twist dreams into tangled lines,

A force that binds, yet leaves us alone,

In search of shores no compass defines.

What is the taste of a life well-spent?

Clear as dew or bitter as brine?

We chase the cascade where joy has leant,

But grasp only air at the fall’s decline.

Water drips softly; it deafens the still,

Each drop, a question the heart can’t ignore,

Is it life that molds us, or our own will?

Can the source be pure if the streams are war?

In a whirlpool’s eye, the world is bare,

Caught between chaos and the eternal hush,

We drown for answers, but none are there,

Only the silence that follows the rush.

So flow, dear river, with your secrets tight,

Your paradox sharp as a blade of rain,

For life is both poison and pure delight,

A fleeting flood of laughter and pain.

©Bunguswa™