Earth and water.
Solid and fluid.
Stillness and flow.
All that has form and holds its shape.
All that flows and changes.
Blood and bone.
The mountain and the river that runs through it.
Both earth and water teach us the wisdom of falling.
Surrendering to gravity.
Of dropping down and down until we reach the lowest point.
The stone falls heavy through the layers of ocean until it thuds on the floor.
The ocean itself is held by the bedrock beneath it.
Every body of water is somehow held by the arms of the earth.
Together they are sticky,
Binding,
Malleable.
Mud and water make clay,
Make bricks and mortar.
Build houses.
Grain and water make dough,
Make bread.
The rain relieves the earth of its dryness,
Its dustiness.
Steeps into the thirsty cracks of earth.
And shows it how to sustain life.
Solid earth gives us the impression that things are fixed.
That things will never change.
Water seeps in and gently or powerfully shows us that change is inevitable.
Water.
.
.
Water reclaims the earth.
Takes it back into itself to find new form.
Over years,
The course of a river changes the land around it.
Over centuries,
Beat of waves wears rock down into sand,
Into dust.
Earth gives water form.
A vessel to hold its stillness or its power.
A place to rest and a place to flow.
Water enters earth and earth holds water.
Gives it a place to settle,
To be still,
To flow.
A surface to beat against.
Earth and water show us patience.
Show us the slow dance of time.
They dance us through the cycle of life and death.
They come into form in a womb of water.
Your form or life is fed by water.
And then reclaimed by the earth.
The saturated by water pulls life back into itself.
To begin the cycle again and again and again.