Seventy Per Cent

Seventy Per Cent.


Oh, molecules of H2 0 , by my flesh now employed,
ancient and perpetual, just how far have you been?
Did you hail from outer space as an icy asteroid,
melting in our atmosphere by human eyes unseen

or from the planet's molten core when it was first volcanic?
No doubt you've sailed the heavens to refresh the earth below.
Were you in the iceberg that sank the proud Titanic?
Perhaps you've graced the frozen face of Everest, as snow.

How many living creatures have you helped to keep alive?
How many trees owe part of their existance to your aid?
Where will you be tomorrow? Will you watch as dolphins dive,
or be in someone's whisky, or a cooling lemonade?

I'd like to think you've floated down in petals on the breeze
and fed the mighty whale sharks with plankton in the deeps.
I haven't travelled very far, or seen the seven seas,
but seventy per cent of me remembers them, and weeps.



Christine
© 2003