Eons ago,
green and greedy
Life slunk slimily
up from the Water,
slapping and lapping
Stones –
ultimately crumbling
under such abuse
only to feed
the Exploitative Explosion
of Foliage
at the Water’s edge.
So Mountains became Plains
one Grain of Sand
at a Time,
When-And-Where
Grass grows lushly
swaying in the Winds –
hot,
parch-marking the fields
and lifting mouthfuls
of Lakes
to the Sky,
taking up Sand
along with it,
subsequently coughing
a Cloud
from which the Water
yearns to rejoin the Seas.
In the right conditions,
each Drop
will slowly freeze:
each Molecule
queues hexagonally
into a lovely
intricate shape
never before seen
and never again.
Like the Sands, such Flakes –
glittering
brilliant
tragically ephemeral –
form heroic hillocks
after learning to dance
with Zephyrs
in the grand ballroom
that is a Blizzard.
All the while, Life
begat Life
until a Furred Figure
drinking of the Water
finally relieves itself
upon the pristine white Dunes –
pissed upon
trampled in mud,
lost is the dazzle
lost is the integrity of design
lost is the shroud of Snow.
The Water makes its way
back to Streams
down the Mountains
gathering at the River Bank
to run back to mother Ocean
where it all began.