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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2296225
The stream in winter, and after.

To understand me then,
understand the stream,
in wintertime ensconced
within the forest deep,
in a groove along the grove,
tinkling dampened by the snow.
Understand the ice,
and, please, understand the flow.

You'd notice all the ice,
its cover dark and clear,
too blank to catch the eye,
still seemed like all that's there.

But don't forget my flow;
It might not reach your eye,
yet underneath its counterpart,
it lives and runs and breathes,
and how!

To understand me now,
please notice all that's thawed;
Not possible, of course,
without knowing how it was.
Notice how much water
can run along the bank
and splash along its way
in currents' free passage.

In a current's strange new form,
new rules and ideas mix;
And change;
And move;
And twist;
In freedom there is fear,
in new structures there is wonder.

How far to safely reach?
An uncertain stream,
that's me, you see?

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