What if peace wasn’t about having the right conditions… but about remaining yourself within them? A poem on identity, adaptability, and the quiet difference between ice and water.
This is beautiful. Water is often associated with “going with the flow” and passivity, but you showed how powerful it can be too. That really resonated with me. Some things, like people, are not always what they seem on the surface.
I couldn’t agree more. People only point in general the part that comfort them. Water is life. That’s true. But water can be destructive as well. And we, human, can be both in the same time. Kind, lovable but rruthless when we must.
What a beautiful composition using water as a metaphor. It gives you the freedom and flexibility to protect your inner self and keep on becoming. The ultimate way to overcome limits.
This poem feels like someone quietly remembering the shape of their own soul.
There’s a gentle honesty in comparing the self to water — soft, deep, and always shifting.
I love how it admits that we’re not always clear; sometimes we’re cloudy, and that’s still part of being real.
The image of staying peaceful while the world’s “ships” pass by feels deeply relatable.
There’s something soothing in the idea that our words ripple differently depending on the moment.
The fierceness that appears when boundaries are crossed feels true in a very human way.
I felt a quiet ache in the lines about needing space to flow and exist without shrinking.
By the end, the poem leaves you with this simple, grounding truth: strength isn’t about being rigid — it’s about staying yourself while everything around you keeps changing.
Et j'adore la version originale en français. There are those tiny subtleties, "harmonics", which are so difficult to translate. Same poem but not quite the same ...
Beautiful poem Odel. The way you describe and embody water as meaning not just fluid works so well. The stanzas build gently on each other, each first line becoming a mantra in a meditative way that draws the reader in.
The lines below stay with me, because this is life.
Ever since I was a little boy, I’ve loved walking in the rain without an umbrella.
Not running from it.
Not hiding from it.
Just walking straight through it until I was soaking wet.
Most people see rain as an inconvenience.
I never did.
Rain always felt alive to me.
Maybe it started when I was sixteen years old.
One week after coming home from Woodstock, my Nana — the love of my life — died in my arms of a heart attack while we were mowing the lawn together on a hot August day in New Jersey.
I can still see her walking toward me as if she wanted to say something.
Then suddenly…
she collapsed into my arms.
I laid her on the ground and tried to save her.
Performed CPR.
Prayed.
And as I felt her slipping away, I whispered:
“Nana…
please remember me when you walk through the gates of heaven.”
Maybe something inside me connected love, loss, heaven, memory, and rain all at once that day.
Years later, before my open-heart surgery, I wrote a letter to my children with these instructions on the envelope:
“Do not open until you feel that first drop of rain on your shoulder.”
Inside that letter, I explained why.
Before surgery, I had sent them lyrics from the song Highwayman:
“I may become a highwayman again
Or I may be a simple drop of rain
But I will remain
And I’ll be back again.”
That line never left me.
A drop of rain.
Not a monument.
Not a gravestone.
Not something hard and permanent.
Just a gentle touch on the shoulder from the sky.
Maybe that’s why I’ve always loved storms.
Because maybe love works like that.
Maybe memory works like that.
Maybe the people we truly love never completely leave us.
Maybe they return in small ways:
a song,
a smell,
a dream,
a campfire,
a laugh,
or a drop of rain landing softly on your shoulder when you least expect it.
The line that carries the most weight is I the water, the world the ships because it quietly reframes the relationship between self and circumstance. The water does not resist the ships or become them. It holds its nature while carrying everything that moves across it. That is a precise image for the kind of inner stability that remains itself regardless of what passes through.
We are billions living in this planet shaping by different perspectives. And each perspective is right even if it’s the opposite of our own. It is one of my favorite line as well. We accept other’s perspective, without losing ours.
Thank you for reading and for your thoughtful comment. Greatly appreciated
Yeah, holding your own perspective while still allowing space for others is a strong balance it keeps dialogue open without needing to erase difference.
This is beautiful. Water is often associated with “going with the flow” and passivity, but you showed how powerful it can be too. That really resonated with me. Some things, like people, are not always what they seem on the surface.
Thank you !
I couldn’t agree more. People only point in general the part that comfort them. Water is life. That’s true. But water can be destructive as well. And we, human, can be both in the same time. Kind, lovable but rruthless when we must.
Wow! I love this message! This will definitely stick with me!
Thank you! I’m happy to know it will stick with you 😊✨🫶🏼
You’re so welcome! 😊
My day just became more tranquil, Odel. Thank you.
Thank you, Christopher. Glad the day got more tranquil 😊
Odel
This is soo damn good
The message is powerful
The symbolic and literal value of water is everywhere.
I specially loved the balance of softness and firmness
Well done ❤️🔥
Thank you my friend ✨😊
You're welcome, brother ✨
What a beautiful composition using water as a metaphor. It gives you the freedom and flexibility to protect your inner self and keep on becoming. The ultimate way to overcome limits.
I couldn’t agree more. Thank you Nabanita 😊
But with the right force, water can't be contained...
And the right strategy…
Thank you HVR
Wow!🫡 Loved this!!!
Thank you for reading and for your lovely comment Johnell. Greatly appreciated
No sir! Thank you🤝
This poem feels like someone quietly remembering the shape of their own soul.
There’s a gentle honesty in comparing the self to water — soft, deep, and always shifting.
I love how it admits that we’re not always clear; sometimes we’re cloudy, and that’s still part of being real.
The image of staying peaceful while the world’s “ships” pass by feels deeply relatable.
There’s something soothing in the idea that our words ripple differently depending on the moment.
The fierceness that appears when boundaries are crossed feels true in a very human way.
I felt a quiet ache in the lines about needing space to flow and exist without shrinking.
By the end, the poem leaves you with this simple, grounding truth: strength isn’t about being rigid — it’s about staying yourself while everything around you keeps changing.
Thank you Adrião for reading it and for your thoughtful comment. I really appreciate that.
This is beautiful.
Et j'adore la version originale en français. There are those tiny subtleties, "harmonics", which are so difficult to translate. Same poem but not quite the same ...
Love it in both versions.
Thank you !
Indeed. That was my biggest issue at the beginning. it’s hard to get the little harmonics from the translation and I’m still improving my english.
I’m glad you loved both versions. Greatly appreciated
Beautiful poem Odel. The way you describe and embody water as meaning not just fluid works so well. The stanzas build gently on each other, each first line becoming a mantra in a meditative way that draws the reader in.
The lines below stay with me, because this is life.
"I am like water,
A source of life or ruin.
Flowing through endless channels,
My essence never tamed."
I guess I wrote it when I was in a meditative mood. Some of my poems are like that. Water is more than a fluid, but a life philosophy.
Glad you enjoyed it, Mark. And thank you for your thoughtful comment. Greatly appreciated ✨
Why I Love the Rain
Ever since I was a little boy, I’ve loved walking in the rain without an umbrella.
Not running from it.
Not hiding from it.
Just walking straight through it until I was soaking wet.
Most people see rain as an inconvenience.
I never did.
Rain always felt alive to me.
Maybe it started when I was sixteen years old.
One week after coming home from Woodstock, my Nana — the love of my life — died in my arms of a heart attack while we were mowing the lawn together on a hot August day in New Jersey.
I can still see her walking toward me as if she wanted to say something.
Then suddenly…
she collapsed into my arms.
I laid her on the ground and tried to save her.
Performed CPR.
Prayed.
And as I felt her slipping away, I whispered:
“Nana…
please remember me when you walk through the gates of heaven.”
Maybe something inside me connected love, loss, heaven, memory, and rain all at once that day.
Years later, before my open-heart surgery, I wrote a letter to my children with these instructions on the envelope:
“Do not open until you feel that first drop of rain on your shoulder.”
Inside that letter, I explained why.
Before surgery, I had sent them lyrics from the song Highwayman:
“I may become a highwayman again
Or I may be a simple drop of rain
But I will remain
And I’ll be back again.”
That line never left me.
A drop of rain.
Not a monument.
Not a gravestone.
Not something hard and permanent.
Just a gentle touch on the shoulder from the sky.
Maybe that’s why I’ve always loved storms.
Because maybe love works like that.
Maybe memory works like that.
Maybe the people we truly love never completely leave us.
Maybe they return in small ways:
a song,
a smell,
a dream,
a campfire,
a laugh,
or a drop of rain landing softly on your shoulder when you least expect it.
I don’t know all the answers.
But I know this:
Every time the rain comes,
I still look up.
And for one small moment…
I feel Nana tapping me on the shoulder again.
This is amazing
You are entirely too kind
You are the amazing one
You Possess a glorious EYE
Thank you 😊
beautiful
Thank you 😊 🫶🏼
The line that carries the most weight is I the water, the world the ships because it quietly reframes the relationship between self and circumstance. The water does not resist the ships or become them. It holds its nature while carrying everything that moves across it. That is a precise image for the kind of inner stability that remains itself regardless of what passes through.
We are billions living in this planet shaping by different perspectives. And each perspective is right even if it’s the opposite of our own. It is one of my favorite line as well. We accept other’s perspective, without losing ours.
Thank you for reading and for your thoughtful comment. Greatly appreciated
Yeah, holding your own perspective while still allowing space for others is a strong balance it keeps dialogue open without needing to erase difference.
I couldn’t agree more.
Glad it resonated
That’s such a calming poem.
Indeed. Thank you, John. Your words are greatly appreciated 😊
This was written beautifully brother, I loved it! Thanks for sharing and inspiring me! 😊💞✨🫂
Thank you for reading and for your lovely comment, Jackie! I’m glad it inspired you 😊