I will not
bow down to you.


you, that roars through valleys.


you, of which I am filled.



I would rather trust something solid and full.

a mountain...

rocks.


wood.


but the Strongest of Rocks
erodes by flowing water still.

that which changes
takes us all.

Listen to the sound of rain...
the rhythm unsteady
each drop a new pattern
its own unique sound.

Listen to the ocean
whose waves curl in and out
in no certain shape
and unmetered rate.

Watch it appear
and then hide...

here I am,
I am gone

here I am,
I am gone