How often have I been attacked
And not known where I’m going?
And yet that doesn’t change the fact
My cup is overflowing.

It’s no surprise both day and night
Are coursing through my being;
Not only am I dark and light
But gracious and all-seeing.

That’s not to say I spend my time
Enthroned upon some mountain;
It’s anyway much more sublime
To spring forth like a fountain,

Or, like a mighty, rolling river,
To play the part of great life-giver.

Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

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