the breeze was the first child to have been born,
the first animals heard her cries
heard her shreaks as she used
the trees to rattle
the ground to dance
her tears so large no river could curb.
it is no surprise now,
as she has grown old and wise,
she uses
the trees to rest,
the ground to dream,
and sometimes,
calls me to join her,
and so,
i too sit,
i too dream,
sipping on salty tears,
i was once told,
no river could curb.
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