The Bond

When I was just a speck of dust

and floating through the verse,

I dreamed that I'd become a planet,

vast and more diverse.

As luck would have it,

there I grew—

and grew, and grew, and grew—

embracing all this “gravitation,”

now I’m round and blue.

Across my surface flows a liquid

integral to life,

and as it spreads

it cuts through rock,

and slices like a knife.

It nourishes organic compounds

energized by light

a rather simple molecule

with rather complex might.

Without this liquid flowing freely,

flowers would not grow

the trees would wilt,

and there would be

no seeds for you to sow.

The land would dry

as breezes try

to soar beyond a gust,

and storms would rage,

and winds would howl,

and clouds would turn to dust.

And as my surface slowly dried

and mountains start to quake,

a blaze would spread

and burn the land

with ashes in its wake.

And there I’d be

without a sea,

a river, or a stream.

A giant rock

just floating there

with little self-esteem.

But luckily

for you and me

two atoms made a bond,

and now I'm covered

in these oceans,

rivers, lakes, and ponds.

So here I float around the Sun

and feel it’s warm embrace,

I carry life throughout the verse

a giant rock in space.

The Bond was originally published in the Tiny Seed Literary Journal.