It asks nothing of me
Drink or don't
I know I must
Or die of thirst.
It taunts me
as I lay in my cold bed
it is so late; and I,
desperate for sleep,
am invaded; peace stolen
and replaced by distraction
one droplet at a time.
It rushes from its home
upon the high mountain
falling falling
the endless stream
downward into this whorl
Into which I desire to leap
To splash and play
to lose myself and thereby
find what is true.
It calls me from the darkest places,
like wisps of fingery fog,
and that clang clang
from the boats in the harbor
which I love so dearly;
Come down with me, come deeper down
Gulls' cries have only scorn
and the waves beat so certain
like my heart; which cannot be stopped,
Not even when the air in my lungs
has been replaced by liquid death.
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