She flows, bubbles, sings,
Winds relentlessly, but gently
She runs to her home, the Father Sea
I ponder, what power must this be?
Through rocky paths, the ground she engulfs
But in the still lake, she reflects Truth
What inspiration can we take for ourselves!
What can we draw from this fountain of youth?
Though encountered by the jagged stone,
She persists with her patient work
The hard-cold creature breaks from her tears
For where her sweet caresses are, no bitterness can lurk.
In lake, pond, and wild ocean,
She allows Man to look into himself
To reflect on every thought, word, and motion
And to put regret and grudge on Forgiveness’s shelf.
If only Man were as pure as her face!
A heart so determined but gentle, so wild but steady
This precious element gifts us with her grace,
But with Man’s corrupt heart, to understand and wield her… Is he ready?
Poetry
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