by Kevin T McEneaney

In our mother’s womb we swam in liquid

while being nourished by the womb’s water.

Even our conception was liquid act.

Like young frogs, we plunge headlong into air,

landing somewhere where gravity shoulders

our presence on this dizzy, spinning globe.

We arrive horizontal or headfirst

to be cradled in swaying arms of love.


The course of our life on gravity’s road

resembles pell-mell flow of waterfall

as we navigate stubborn obstacles

that impede our downriver destiny.

We do not often think we are water,

yet our heart and brain know we are water.

Sprout Creek waterfall