I love to see the water gushing
‘neath orange sun or lemon moon,
come rushing down from distant hills
where thunder god has played his tune,
where spring’s become a reservoir,
a trickle into brooklet changed,
increased to spreading stream and river
that rolls and twists as if deranged.
Observer from a world controlling,
I envy all that surging power,
with bending trees, earth banks submerging,
dark seaward townships start to cower,
when hear how waters lake the levels,
a liquid force through streets and fields,
to drive its destiny to shoreline
against whose journey nothing shields –
but, where I watch, seals admiration
for nature’s energy and drive,
contorted, surging, wildly dancing
and shouts, like me, it is alive!
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