They shape the land beneath our feet.
They shape the terrain of our inner landscape.
These aren’t rivers of wounds, filth, and nightmares.
They honor the reflection of moon’s pearlescent glow.
They carry our dreams within the depths of their mystical undertow.
Like the moon, we are mirrored in these rivers running through us.
These rivers are music. Their songs move steadily through our joys, they are the tears we shed.
It is difficult to drown in such rivers when they’ve been within us all our lives.