Water

The water forming the lake ripples gently
As the soft breeze dances lightly across its dark blue surface
The air is mountain clean
But its silent invisibility is filled with the moisture evaporating from lake
Ascending toward the heavens where it will join with moisture relatives
Forming wisps of white drawn together like magnets
Transforming into magnificent billowing powder puff clouds of virgin white And so they would remain if the moisture and constantly birthed wisps Would stop their transformation and immigration into the whiteness
But that is not the nature of water for it seeks to be with its family
In whatever form that family may be
And so, with time, the white transitions through shades of grey
Toward a stormy menacing restless blackness
Until with a flash and a shout the clouds open their fortress like doors
Exploding like suicide bombes
Spilling out their very essence until they fade from existence
And as that essence falls earthward
Sometimes along a hurried direct route as bullets seeking a target
Sometimes carried by the winds in a circuitous path
Up and down, side to side
But always reaching its next way station of ground
Where in time it finds a way to the streams
Some on the surface and others hidden
Some natural and some man made
And then from the steams to the lakes
And so it goes
So it goes