Becoming

 

Water becomes rain,

And then becomes stream,

Which then becomes river,

Becomes ocean,

Becomes mist,

Becomes fog,

Becomes rain,

Which slides down the rocks,

And is taken into the ground,

And then taken up by the plants,

Animals and birds and people.

It becomes the sweat of the brow,

And the tears slipping down,

Upon a shirt that has been slept in.

Evaporating into air,

It remains invisible for a while. Then,

After a time,

It becomes dew which burns off

As the liquid sun rises,

Becoming mist,

Becoming cloud,

Becoming rain.

Nothing is ever really gone,

It only transforms.

--carrie newcomer