Living water
- Terri Seddon
- May 6
- 1 min read
Solid and liquid
The rain enters the dream as snow. Something tangible falls into my world. Facts and foibles interact with dreams and imaginings. And the melting, melding and oozing wet reappears as other stories.
The blue path never curves. Coming after rain becoming snow, water transforms into delicate lace crystals. The crystals freeze into continuing cycles of living. And the whispering wetness reveals other words and worlds previously unknown.
‘Walk like an Indian,’ my Dad says. Pointing out silent paths through glistening structures Curving creeks are taking shape. And the watery worlds of my own stories surge and splash into view.
Terri Seddon
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