Where Waters Meet

by Zhang Ling

Thought has a separate circulatory system, with its own heart, veins, and sensory organs. It breathes, sees, and talks, all on its own. Unlike a tree, an animal, or a human, water has no skin, and hence, no boundary. Water seeps through the narrowest crack, climbing up, with a little help, to a hilltop, dropping, effortlessly, to lowlands, evaporating, condensing, and falling again as rain or snow, back in its original state. The cycle repeats itself, no beginning, no end. It may assume different names when it travels to different parts of the world. It can be called the Nine Hills, or the Oujiang, or Mirs Bay, or Lake Ontario. Whatever the names, whatever the shape, deep down in the core, they are just water. They diverge, and then converge, always able to connect with each other, never truly dying, and always free.