The rivulet carries your dreams
as will the cherry blossom,
an eddy of hope will serenade
before a certain loss shorns your patience,
of a love lost
and to realise its only channel is a seashell
the sound before the rivulet
where once you were the liege
but the coarse fisherman's daughter
left with the whittle of a voyage
can only laugh at the serenity of your suggestion
the assumption behind your dream