How does it feel…to take part in a waterfall?
To be a single molecule of H2O crashing down in unison with your comrades onto the surface of a rippling pool below. To be drawn from the river you call home, where you had gently drifted along as nature willed only to be thrown from a cliff edge with such force as though the great mother pushed you herself.
One of two things can happen then: you either get slammed through the surface of the pool and thrashed around in a giant aqua tumble dryer, to eventually—maybe—escape the chaos and be nudged along to find yourself another temporary home on an unfamiliar river; or you ricochet off the film of pulsating rage and drift in the wind with hope of a lottery landing.
How it must feel to smash against boulders in a playful game of tag in which you could never lose. To bring entire adult trees along for a ride they almost surely do not wish to embark.
A single drop of liquid tears from crying mountains. A descendant of glaciers, would-be father of lakes.
I—as a human—do not have the slightest notion of what it is like to be water, I am only made up of sixty percent.
You give me life.
And as I stare at you taking that leap into a cascade of glory, I wonder...if you feel alive.