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Of the deep 
river blue 
asked the channels-
why mourn you? 


The rain, lately, 
is not so kind, 
I fear my waters 
are running dry


Dear river, 
smiled the braids of love,
Don’t you see, 
you created us? 


Flood us all
 with your sparkle not,
neither mound in 
yourself on one plot 


Harvest your sentience
 of the past year 
Disperse it into 
our channels clear

Remember creeks too, 
tend to flow
 where the heavy river 
cannot go


Through us you seep 
past the hardest of rocks
 to pools you knew- 
not then of

Kindle, anew, 
The path, though obscure,
Avows to transmute
till you find your stream pure