The truth of water #2

The wind, breathe of the sky and air,
Now pulls me to the river wild and dark.
To sit upon the edge of this eternal flow,
And ebb that marks the passage of all time.
There to watch in silent reverence all life,
Wash from its source, swirling torrents,
Turning to slow and stately flow as out,
Towards that final ocean where we started.
The river never can regret the passing,
Of fields beautiful and landscapes fair,
Nor pine for them when entering dank city,
Or sigh when man pollutes it’s waters sweet.
The river, oh that river, how I long to be,
As passive and as strong in faith as it,
And how I long to feel the peace of simple rivers,
The courage to complete the journey meant for me.

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