Waiting for the wind

Rivers of the mind

Have stopped flowing

Long ago;

The waters are still.

No wind ever touches

The surface, and no sky

Is reflected.

I miss the waves,

The power they brought me.

I miss the storms,

The way they stirred opencasts

In the grounds of the abysmal

River bottom.

The calm has lasted for too long,

Thirst for a convulsing tempest

Is overpowering my essence.

But until one comes,

I’m a motionless vein system

Of waters, waiting for the wind.

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