The water on my fingers turns from cold to warm
In a burst
And slips through my open fingers
With the night
As I step in bent to a cascade
Of a thousand pleasant bee stings

Water caresses my head
Like a slow dive into a warm pool
As I anoint weary aching
With shampoo and soap

Then only the water to ease and massage
Like the bubbling water flow of life
On its journey
Like time , that tactile fluid which too we cannot catch
Or hold
Like this morning water through my fingers
As I bow to drain out
The morning awakening
And rise into the fresh swirl
of this new day