water is gravity bound
only escapes to higher elevations
for short escapades
and then returns gleeful
spends time telling all the others
about sojourns into the sky
so all of water lines up
for the possible journey
long lines from sea deeps
to the surface
in great hopes
to get an evaporative ticket to ride
so invisibly blessed when it happens
it seems like magic to us
then into the sky
by busloads, stampeding herds
long trainloads then crossing
delicates dancing to a waltz
humming along,
all on their own
please, when you come back
tell us all quite privately
sort of face to face
I’ll be there
and feel richly blessed
as a surrogate substitute
for tears on my face
but with the emotional composure
to thoroughly whimsy-listen . . .
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