Light white crystals in a Morton can
Tiny and weightless in my small hand
Minerals harboring immense powers
Of life; the list could go on for hours
Of things it’s done. Like in frozen snow
When humans might slip on sleek stiff ice
And break a bone, when salt will suffice
To melt the frozen water and clear
The potential for danger, damage and fear
And sickness, when throats feel scratched and tight
From fever, cold, or parasite
A gargle salt rinse will ease the prickle
Right at home, no medicine, less than a nickel
Traveling the Egyptian night
Through desert dunes and sandy plight
Nomads deprived of nutrients
Sleeping by camels in canvas tents
While dietary salt ensured their survival
In conditions so harsh and trivial
Fish, rays, anemone
Depend on salt for life in the sea
Without it, all will die and cease
To fill fishers’ market nets with ease
Salt-preserved meat under American sun
Helped the pioneers supply food on the run
While traveling to regions on a wagon-back course
To settle, jerky was their dependent source
A pinch on porridge adds immeasurable flavor
Or a sprinkle on a boiled egg to savor
Sitting in my hand, a bit of salt grain
Harbors vital traits of worldly gain