Such a river, Such a thought

This is a little poem I wrote a long while ago.

This river of thought
flows from heart, mind, and soul
right down to its tributaries.
It washes up on a land
that is devoid and deserted
of grand and renowned things.
This body of ink
forges its own path.
From the water's depth,
come different images.
In the shallow waters,
the bottom of the river is clear.
In the deeper spots,
the water is murky and obscured.
Those brave souls
will explore what is beneath the surface.
Its current changes like the moon,
slowly and subtly.
One day, it roars like a summer storm.
On another, it is quiet like a slight night breeze.
But no matter what pace the water runs
It never loses its strength
and never finds an end.