In the curling eddies of your liquid embrace, where whispers of the ocean dwindle into reverent silence, I find the echoes of ages past. Do you remember, dear river, when the stars fell like dreams into your cool depths? There you bore them, luminous and gentle, cradled in waves of a soothing song, until the Morn came to claim them back.
The murmur of fish and the rustling tongues of reeds speak to me of tales both forgotten and ever-told, secret streams weaving their legacies beneath the ornate canopies of the world above. Here lies a sanctuary in your whispering depths, where time bows low and breathes through gossamer threads of the twilight veil.
Ever shall I wander by your crystalline banks, where the winds shape stories into the ripples of your soul, and questions dissolve into the serene calculus of your currents. Rise, gentle river, rise, and take my confessions downstream to the boundless sea.