Water Finds Its Way

Water finds its way through the smallest cracks— patient, relentless, wearing stone into silk.

We are not rocks. We are the water itself, flowing around every obstacle, pooling in the dark places, learning the shape of what holds us.

Sometimes it rains upward. Sometimes we evaporate into a sky that doesn't recognize us, becoming the cloud, the mist, the morning that erases itself.

But water remembers. It always comes back, changed, infinite, ready to wear away whatever stands between us and the sea.