Water

Water (wot-er) n.: Dihydrogen Monoxide. Water is so much more than it is, and it is nearly everything: ~70% of Earth's surface, ~70% of the human body, essential to Earth life.

Water is also freedom. NASA uses immense pools of water to simulate Extra Vehicular Activity in space: water lets us give gravity a bit of the old slip.

Water is hope. Circulating virtually anywhere on planet Earth, one rounded corner to the next, currents as vast and endless as time itself: away from the past, away from tyranny, away from danger, towards something new.

Water is destruction. Give a drip of water, no more significant than that from the kitchen faucet 100 million years and it will bore through granite: drip, drip, drip.

Water is creation. Strip a billion or so years off of planet Earth and there you'll find us—all of us, all life—a few confused amino acids in an acidic pool of water trying to find our way: Water gave us our big-break.

Water is countless happy childhood hours for a little boy who couldn't run very fast, or throw very hard, or breathe all that well either who found his strength within the support of strong covalent bonds

Water is where I learned to fear: the crushing weight of ocean waves that do not stop, to not parlay, do not forgive in their endless onslaught. Pushing and pulling deeper and deeper into their darkness.

Water is where I learned to succeed: twice a day, seven days a week, across the country and back, treading water, swimming, sweating, bleeding, playing Water Polo for pride and glory.

Water is love pouring out of your body: tears, sweat, the passionate medium between one soul and another.