I was but a trickle of water

that became a small stream.

Feeling like a stagnant pond,

filled with mud, grime and algae, dead.

Ever in search, I began to flow

through the mountainside.

How could I have known

that your rapids were so close?

How could I have been prepared?

I wasn’t. I wouldn’t want to be.

I will trust the flow of the river of self discovery.

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