Touch us gently and we glide freely down your stream
You are ever-flowing Word-artist enlivening our dreams
As Net-trees sigh, your dimpling stream runs gleaming by
Of Wisdom heaven-born sweet waters you ascribe, not shy
Few tales will get onto the main stream for a top choice hit
When the air laugh with our merry wit, I hug your page a bit
I question a jet-stream’s influence for depths to anchor deep
From a valley-view of sloping hillsides and sorrow not to weep
I sit on hillside, sprawl wet-legged, with questions a wondering
Awaiting doors, that don’t look like doors, miraculously opening
A rilled catalyst, a rock in the stream; teacher teach us dreams
Spirited thoughts, brought from all forms, Wisdom’s depths seen
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