The liquid is surreal.
I thought this unnatural perfection was reserved for films flashing before your eyes,
But I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The water rushes freely, defying my imagination.
Triumphantly it flows contrasting the lazy trees it gives no heed.
Bursting over every obstacle, it
Caresses the mountainsides it calls home for just a moment,
Falling ever deeper into the gorges it crafts masterfully with time as its tool.
It ceases for no one and its color is unmatched.

O river of sweet liquid ice, I admire thee.
I stand on the edge of the riverbank and I marvel,
Time means nothing to the beings here.
The indigo fluid escapes grasping,
Like so many forgotten memories.
As my blurry cerulean reflection stares at me
I am conscious of the eras that have passed this place and left it untouched.
From whipped cream snow, to buttered sunshine days.
This setting transcends understanding.
There is no want for love,
No desire to sin or stay pure,
No lust for money or material worth.
I watch as the sun’s beams in their death throes
Discharge their savored finale upon the river.
It burbles back with a satisfied sigh.

Shadows envelop my wonderland, as I cascade into sleep.
Obstructed by the dams in my mind the despair builds into a reservoir.
Brimming, threatening to break, and I am
****** from my slumber.
Tears stream silently into the darkness
Escaping my overfull well.













Azure beams dance softly at first.
Anxiously they swim in their own light and
Suddenly come forth proclaiming their own birth.
Reveling in their existence as a new day starts, and
Again this place holds the power of ages.
They join me here, basking me in their glory, and
Out of the ashes of yesterday’s sorrows
Gushes a mighty river of joy.