Water
rushes onward
Kept
in its course it has no need
Of
‘why?’ and ‘where?’
It
runs how it always runs
And
in its bending journey
Knows
no remorse
Downward
only will it keep
To
its expectant momentum
And
to the unknown place
Water
flows with no fear
I
am a trickling brook
I
am a river running to the sea
I
am a lively silver sound
Growing
in the falling
*
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