consolation in swift thoughts
when all is still
like the pond in summer
stagnant, stifling
awaiting cleansing storm

moving felt right
with closed eyes
leaping across cuts in the earth
thirsty for rain
tired of watching reeds stand guard
willing them to bend, sway

peace in fought-for breath
being quiet
like the creek feeding the river
rolling, reeling
avowing sated spirit

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