A Flow Chart

"Oh that this too,too solid flesh would thaw And resolve itself into a dew" Water slips through our fingers ,so fresh and sweet Yet a solid mass will smash all before it Where scree sits,solid on the slopes, Dislodged it will sweep down,wave after wave, A sea of stones That blanket of snow off piste lying still Shudders into life thundering With oceanic power Drowning all in its path How solid is cold metal until molten And then its white hot stream Spits and scalds and settles Into its mould