At first
we didn't think much
about water.
Water didn't matter . . .
always more in the well.
On soaring mountain heights
glaciers hide.
Their pure, crystalline ice
melts. a
rivulet
is born -
alpine streams
merge to descend
from unseen heights
fractured water hisses and
foams, then misty ribbons unite to
momentarily fan over rocks
and thunder into deep fjords over
which eagles soar
At first
we didn't think much
about water
Water didn't matter . . .
always more in the well.
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