A Poem for Water

Land of many rivers,
where crystal water once
flowed like honey.
Not a mustard honey
for sandwich meat,
but a golden honey,
more precious than its color.
This land where woman rose
and tasted the first fruits
of the garden.
This land where man
tended to the cucumbers call,
and the orange carrots cry.
Water reigned on this land
and flowed with the moving earth,
tugged at the dirt,
played with the rocks
and laughed, tickling tadpoles.
You were so happy then,
water,
baptizing life,
making things new.
But now you're gone
and the earth mourns its dear friend.
Why did you stop tickling the tadpole?
Did he hurt your name?
Forgive us, your lovers, water,
then we can caress one another, again.
Surely we will wait on the one
who baptizes us
and gives life.
Surely you will return,
dear,
blue
friend.