The droplets twist and writhe towards the sill,
Each one mimicking the rivulets beyond
That trail into haze.
Fog grasps at purple-tinged treetops,
And murders, with stealth, the fallen logs.
Rocks, agitated by damp jewels, aggressors to the Loughs,
Threaten by protrusion.
Vessels are filling up, refreshed and enamoured.
The water spreads out,
Eating at decay it once encouraged.
So democratically
It creeps and steals,
Falls and flows,
Cleanses and creates.
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