I Drink the Water

Every day, without fail, I drink the water.

It is clear, cool, and quiet. It does not ask for praise, yet it sustains me. In the morning, at noon, in the evening—I return to it again and again.

There is something honest in this simple act. No ceremony, no fanfare—just a glass, my hands, and the water flowing into me.

Perhaps life is made not of grand gestures, but of these small, repeated truths.