|
 |
| And I a migrant seeker. Calling... "Mother, delusional I hear your whispers. Faint through the mirage of a forest. Wafting upon the fog. And I ache for you to quell my thirst. Please, unsheathe my eyes. Efface these clouds from my sight so your vastness I may perceive. For multitudes gaze upon your waters, admiring what they see. Many are lost in their own reflection, never able to see the erudition of your deep. Cause reticent and inert you appear like the pond, while your vital force endows life. Engendering trees from seeds." |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |