The rivers whistle
They draw twirling whirlpools,
take us across them into unseen depths
The rivers can lead to a piece of us
So mystical it is they flow to live,
And so they drown who may not cross,
Not cross the flow of the river rise,
Nor expect the unexpected of unknown;
Not to cross the water ever fed
Or be the one that they would be,
Or watch the flow go and fade
Being in awe
Hearing their breath,
Feeling their pulse,
watching the rivers rise and fall
Being alive
being a piece of
and controlled by them
casting spells and letting us be blessed