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  • somewhere in the deep and beautiful wilderness
    a gentle babbling brook bubbles and flows
    over a stony rock bed
    beneath the water’s face.
    rocks shaped, curves formed
    worn down to pleasant shapes
    by the passing water
    by the passing of the stream.
    If such a gentle being as water
    can shape such coldness and stubbornness
    as the rock bed below,
    then tell me: why can’t your gentle curves
    leave their impression
    on my tired and weary mind?
    They do, my love,
    they burn lasting impressions
    like beautiful ancient carvings
    on even my clumsy mind
    and leave me babbling
    like a brook
    in the wilderness.
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