Where The Brook Flows Into The River
by Amber "V" Moonstone
Somehow I became lost,
Was it on the first day of Spring,
Where the brook flows into the river,
and the sounds of nature burned deeply
within my lonely heart?
The daffodils tell another story,
a sunny mood of tender realizations,
standing proudly along the bank
of that brook that flows eternally within.
Purifying thoughts of loneliness,
capturing moods of darkness,
standing on the edge of madness,
recounting those final moments.
That time when your mind and heart
stand separate and contemplative,
filling you with uncontrollable thoughts,
of panic and deep despair.
Grasping for a life perserver,
you step into the flowing brook,
run quickly across to the other side,
where moss and golden buttercups reign.
You join their enduring happiness,
fill your lonely cup with golden energy,
to rejuvenate and revive your inner spirit,
while watching the brook flow into the river.
"Where The Brook Flows Into The River" (c)
Amber "V" Moonstone