In Honor of All Women on International Women's Day, March 8th

High in a Mojave canyon,
Spring breathes upon a pinyon pine branch.
An icicle whispers to her daughter, “It is time – go now.”

The tiny spherical droplet melts away to her destiny.
She descends, weightless and perfect,
With the image of her universe, peaceful and harmonious:
Infinite sky, timeless juniper, folded rock, distant mesa.

She brushes a smooth slope and glides downward,
Joining a rivulet of sisters in freedom;
Dancing in whorls and torrents;
Awakening dark canyons with sparkle and flash;
Dazzling arroyos with shimmer and spirit;
Singing with joy and hope.

The current rushes onward,
Knowing no barriers, creating its own path,
Gaining strength and grace, power and beauty;
Sustaining and comforting all living things.

Quenching and renewing parched sands,
Descending deep beneath the flowering desert,
Finding clear, calm peace
In cool, silent caverns far below.

Eternally reborn through the eons
In cloud, snowflake and icicle. . .
A single perfect droplet.

William Walsh    2000