My poems are like sounds of flowing water,
It tells of no serious things in particular;
But little of people that wash others’ feet
And the wild that call green forests home
It talks of fauns that hide in crevices
And dreamy waterfalls, happy to fall with currents,
Rushing, flowing in streams and rivers,
Out of sight, far away from our hamlet
Planting green seeds on all dry earth
And sometimes playing sounds
Under tree logs, behind boulders
Mimicking a bird’s singing
So that birds stop to listen
Your love is a balm to my heart
A healing elixir, refreshing my soul
For each time I lay beside humble waters,
I see streaks of sun rays escape through tree leaves
As beautiful sounds of water play a melodious tune
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