running
dripping
water
like pearls,
an angel
to watch over
to guard the Land-by-day.
Music of rhythms
crash down
to a still, deep pond,
and
ancient stone
lines
serpent-like,
where rivers once grew,
and grew.
I may be alive
but I am in awe,
and tears
melt down
from this glacier
that I formed.
May it all melt soon.
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