It comes as a cloud without form but envelops me at times,
blurring my vision and at others sunlight breaks through in great clarity.
I can breath its moisture, smelling the rain before it falls.
My heart salivates for its taste. Drops moisten, rivulets form pools
and in torrents it flows. So much water but none I can drink.
It must be purified, filtered and distilled.
So much wasted, lost and consumed it returns to its source
the great salt sea of flowing evaporated ideas.