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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