Friday, September 26, 2008

The river underneath

A river of words flows underneath my life. It's soft whisper becomes audible when the rest of the world goes silent.
Events encountered change the muddy bed, the form of its banks, or just the sundance on the surface.
All this time not writing, I thought I was neglecting my dream. It seems instead I've been thinning the crust, so the riversong speaks clearly.

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