A Fluvial Felicity
Crafted the fountain out of crystals. A mystic magpie’s gleeful hoard.
The creek, confident in its majesty. Churning. Sparkling.
The house held between them. Sacred cradle of intuition.
Integration’s embrace.
Flanked by falling waters, magic is the yield.
To flow. Seed the world, a kaleidoscope of dawnings.
The fountain is a mirror
The creek is a portal
The house, a perfect hush
In the stillness you can hear your
SELF
Solipsism: rinsed clean the grime of
Perception
Criticism
Expectation
Tabula rasa worn through millennia. Etched and scribed. Single shining drop by drop.
Ravine revealed, a coliseum caught amid the ache and the lash, to fill up.
Anew.
Germinal, liminal: sacred waters and unbridled promise.
The quench of ice against a desiccated throat.
Felicity.
Shelby Cohen