remember the water.
They still have its voice,
a roar that remembers
its ocean destination--
a whisper-babble-splash
as well.
Many musics, music
music, it proclaims, and
then the wind whistles in.
She made a way and
in rushes the breath,
sing to breathe. and to sing.
Waters and waters and wind
to whirl. Spirits let us
linger. Let us take root
as the lotus in the mud,
in the life of matter, and
let us rise in light as
prism, dew drop to rainbow,
to speaking waters, and
howling winds.
In the East dawn is
cracking, right now,
the egg of Nuit. Sky
of space fades from
view...
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