The River in me knows no origin,
But only it's end, my love.
Unto thy spirit that beckons it,
So lovingly, unto thy bosom...
Thou ask of it nothing but love.
It's flowing waters, quenching thy desires,
An unfulfilled thirst lasting until death.
But Love,- like the flowing waters has no form.
It resides in the swiftness of that River's flow,
Or as the Clarity in those waters,
That reflect the shards of beam carelessly thrown by the Moon...
Or showered by the sun..
It is that undemanding spirit, that knows no bounds,
But only it's destination.....