Where Water Goes

Poetry has always been in my being from my earliest memory. Even as a young child, I would climb into the highest branches and sway with the wind, suspended between the immense potential of a star-filled heaven and the banal motion of a finite earth below. Even then, my soul would sing in an unknown language, glorifying the majestic presence connected in every living thing. The first time a written poem inspired that part of me was a rhyme titled Little Drops of Water from a book collection read to me by my mother. I knew then my true calling in this life.