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©Appalachian Stream by Rev J Scott Martin

Cascading, Smashing, Twirling, Whirling,
Down, down, ever down.
Huge boulders proclaim.
Not this way!
Y'all must go around!
Rushing, Splashing, Crashing, Bashing,
All suddenly cease,
A quiet pool,
Writes new rules,
And still waters run deep.

Rock Garden

mossy rock
A garden grew,
Upon this rock.
Lichen and moss,
So richly frock.

©Running Water

Uganda, Ethiopia, Nicaragua too,
Around the globe it is so true.
Women balance on their heads loads of water,
A task curiously reserved for the mother or the daughter.

Water to wash, water to cook,
Water to drink, and even bathe.
Now I ask you my friends,
How much water did you haul today?

©Water in the Blood

I have water in my blood,
Not gentle waves,
On tropical shore,
But running,
Through solid rock it tore.
Gouging gullies,
Hollowing hollers,
Appalachian water I adore.

©On the Way to the Sea

And crashing,
Swift, frigid waters cascade,
Down, around, and over rocks,
Who's jagged edges long ago wore smooth by the abrasive flow,
Hinder but only slow the mountain stream on its way to the sea.