From where I stand,

I will write in the rain.

Let each drop seep down into the roots of my hair.

I will sit down in the sediments of the dirt.

Let each puddle grow into the indents of my palms.

Stories of swimming pools and floods have evaporated.

They now run through my throat and wash the dirt from my feet.

From where I lay,

in the middle of the storm.

I will listen to each story.

Each highlight of the news.

Each day of rest.

All forgotten like the way we have forgotten that water is life,

and just like life,

water can be tainted too.

The whole DAPL (and Flint, but I'll keep that in parenthesis, since its place in the headline is long gone) craze is at a halt right now within the media department, but I still want to remind everyone of the situation. It goes deeper than the fight for water. Our priorities as a nation and as beings is off kilter, and instead of cowering on my side of the map, I'll use this platform to express my concerns. My concern for where people's hearts have gone away to. My concern for green paper that will never be enough. My concern for the tears of those who are trying. Independence and power tastes sweet, but too much of anything will make you sick to your stomach or sick in your head. The evil is overpowering the good and everyone's viewpoint of what is evil and and what is good is different, so therefore peace remains a hypothesis not a theory. Hold tight onto your heart and let it feel, but do not let that weigh you down, but use it. We need a lot more love, because only love will win in the end.