There was time when thoughts of rivers in full stream
Meant the entire world to me. I fell into the magic sight
Of waters running free. To me the liquid did seem
To enhance the world around me. Everything was right
As long as the waters glowed. Gathered in celestial light,
The streams of life confided me and I became a beacon
For thoughts gone astray. What I felt was right was good
As long as I believed in it and my vision was seeking
The path to relief. Looking through the tangled woods
I realized the world would change. All the fickle dreams
Would become real stones. The stones would weigh me
Down and I would try and uncover them, but it only seems
Like a solution when the waters recede into tunnels to be
Caught in waves of pain in their glittering facades of doubt.
The flowers on the shore would wither and I would see
The grass turning brown as I learned to painfully shout
My submission to the change. A rainbow must begin
Where every shadow falls in silence and the light of day
Becomes a beacon of solitude. In the hassle of a sin
I become a rock of solid waste and never let me say
That the end is nearby. I crawl into a fatal shell of empty
Serenity, which when I open it becomes a dribbling day
Of defeats. Inside my tussled head lies a vision of me
That I recognize as being from the shallow earth.
I reach behind my back to find a never-ending sound
That blisters inside my head signalling my cosmic rebirth.
I am drawn into the waters and it seems I am upward bound
Into the memory of starry night gone flat into the mire.
There is a rustling in the leaves that can only be my mind
As I create a world of new in which I will begin to inspire
The signalling of the end for the hope I might find.
And this becomes my enemy, this becomes my birth.
I am renewed through the waters of life; waters of pain
That begin to fossil playfully upon the aging earth
Where I collect the shadows of the newly falling rain.
