This clod of earth that I call mine <br /> is only dust and dirt, <br />Until your overflowing water <br /> spills the green upon the brown. <br />Your whirls and eddies soak the ground <br /> of this awaiting garden. <br /> <br />My breath dries to crackles and sparks <br /> the air inside my jar. <br />Your mist and clouds discharge my fret <br /> with gentle laughing rain. <br />Your waters dance and splash abandon <br /> over all my hard-baked cares. <br /> <br />Ego-fire drives to level <br /> all I really love. <br />Its flaming mouth would eat the world <br /> and stand alone apart; <br />But that monster cannot pass <br /> the river of your heart.<br /><br />Steven Silent Wolf<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cascade-3/
