Separate needles of cold rain are falling from a silver sky on a chilly autumn morning
Oblivious that they have left behind the silent depths where they enveloped and sustained unimaginable lives
No looking back to slowly and sinuously winding along ancient wooded valleys
Where kingfishers speared and swam and minnows darted through silent shade.
Once leaping and tumbling exuberantly over rocks and down steep, craggy hillsides
Having welled unbidden from the rocky depths
After a long and silent wait in subterranean pools, soaking the roots of the mountains
Drenching the earth and peat, soaking and dripping through the limestone and shale
Having once fallen as separate needles of cold rain falling from a silver sky on a chilly autumn morning.
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