water drip

Poem about daily struggles

It is the water drip of life that
Erodes the stone of our souls.
Where the storms would pass unknown
Where the rain would make us grow.

When the deluge runs passed
Unheeded and unnoticed rain,
The small drops after take us
Grinding malice into our veins.

The frigid winters pass
Survived by our strength and hope
But the slow cold spring that follows
Dims the fire of our souls.

It steals our dreams, our lives
In slow and grinding strokes
That carve channels in our cheeks
And steal our fondest hopes.

Though the mountains survive the tempests,
The fire, the wind, the quakes.
It is the relentless, slow-flowing steams
That dissolve it in their wakes.

But the water drip of life
Is what gives us life to be
Without the water, without the fire
And cold, we can never breathe.