North by Northwestern

Before I was born, the world was made of water
Swirling, whirling masses of cool liquid
That would sweep me in and out
In and out
Rocking my unformed self into peace.

When I was born, the water turned to ice
Breaking, making crystal chunks
Of ammunition, slowly boring holes
In a cold and senseless body.

Then the morning met the glowing sun
Fighting, lighting dark terrain
It flooded the world
Washing away perforated skin
Freeing my existence to the gushing flow
As I heard once again the ripple of the past.

But I did not know how to control the sun
And it had no inclination of restraint
So I watched as heat overtook the swiftest streams
Turning all to reflect itself.

Now I am grown
A million footsteps old
And my world is made of dust.