Dance of the Fountain

For Dorothy Estes

The fountain is dry
Mud cakes its surfaces
Reminding me of a recent time
When the water flowed
    gaily,
        gently,
            furiously,
                freely.

Light and shadow dancing
    in joyous beauty
We gathered there
    young,
        old,
            furious,
                free.

Some of us pondered
On the nature of the water.
Most of us enjoyed its bounty
With little thought.
We all drank
    deeply,
        hungrily,
            lovingly,
                greedily.

We took and rarely gave;
She gave and rarely took.
We saw her as our
    friend,
        enemy,
            slaver,
                mother.

And with her we
    worked,
        cried,
            laughed,
                struggled.

But we never thought she’d go,
Abandon the fountain
Leave it
    lifeless,
        loveless,
            joyless,
                hopeless.

I weep.
And those tears raining down
Contain water from the fountain.
She lives in every cell of our bodies.
And through us she lives on.

— C.D. Walter
     August 16, 1999