From a Drop

Water, water, water drips from her braided hair, her arm, water drips from her fingertips. A soft blue dotted line takes shape along the path she has walked, it comes with her at every step of her now. And it goes on across the soft meadow along the path of all her tomorrows. The woman comes from there: from the heart of every drop, from the depths of the spring of the water of life, from darkness...