Perhaps the crystal clearest pool
Or lake of murky mystery
Is the true source
Of all discourse  
That flows to mouths of history

On lips and tongues of consciousness
We pass its streams to quench our minds
Of knowledge thirst
That lies submersed
Until cupped hands drink from its times

Then question how the river flows
Eternally through all we've been
Finding the source
To change its course
By what we take and put back in