Dear Water

Dear Water,

How relatable you are. Some days you’re harder than stone, remaining in one place and moving for nothing and no one. Others you are fragile and calm or you choose to fade into the atmosphere. It’s incredible how we gauge our outlooks on life through your presence in a transparent cylinder, do we see the glass as half full, or do we see the glass as half empty? Do we see you as the grounds for which people frolic and cleanse themselves, or do we see you as a tomb for those less fortunate or less desired?

What I really need to know is how do you sustain all these amazing feats? You appear stellar, you sound harmonic and you enumerate honesty without words. It amazes me how you manage to balance all of it, cause I could use some advice. I try to balance my future, my present self and happiness, unbeknownst to myself that there’s no easy feat in doing so. I write this letter to commend you, but in reality, I’m confessing. I aim for goals, but I can’t shoot, and I never understand why. But you, water, you do what you want, you don’t think. Thinking is my worst enemy, it keeps me in the dark. So, I commend you water, I wish you hope for the future.

I only can hope to replicate what you do.

Sincerely,

Timothy Hamer