Chimes are ringing along with their oscillations, the ship’s hull seizes its skeletons and yanks it towards the cerulean waters without a frontier, thinking that maybe you’ll come back from the…
I am the still lapping of the serene lake.
I am the inevitable flow of the waterfall.
I am the bubbling spring trickling down the slope,
The puddle of crisp rainwater
The cool kisses of summer rain
on your cheek.
And yet-
Amidst the frozen days of water.
I am the fertile black swamp,
Filled with life,
And also death,
And decay,
And rot.
I am a black endless infinite pool
in the moonlight.
I am a warm safe grotto you can shelter in.
I am the surging water beating down your levees,
Washing away your dunes,
Your dams,
You delusions of control.
But you can’t handle that part of me.
A fountain easily turned off when convenient,
A pond to be admired and tended
When you find the time,
I may sometimes be the bathwater,
Warm and designed to suit your needs.
the flood
the deluge
I must destroy what is no longer true
What is no longer needed
And you
Make me vile and evil for that
Too powerful to be controlled
Because I make things difficult
And uncomfortable
And disrupted.
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