Waterfalling on The Old Ghost Road

Waterfalling
falling
falling
clattering
sparkling
from rock
to mossy rock
down and
ever further
down

waterfalling
crisp
clear
cold
alive

Waterfalling
sometimes
you only hear
a gentle drumming,
then gushing
through gullies,
among ferns
around rocks
over boulders
and tree roots
gurgling
trickling
dripping
from tiny
mossy fingers

ever moving
touching
refreshing
every living cell
it meets
until they all join
in clarifying
unison

waterfalling
calling
urging me to
slow down

slow down

open every fibre
take in
savour
what this precious
earthy
moment
offers

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