Between the banks of joy and truth,
There flows a stream of light
With all the raucousness of youth
And grace of birds in flight.

It makes its way from west to east
And sometimes north to south,
And then, when I expect it least,
It comes out of my mouth.

Its beauty is a summer’s day
As much as winter’s, too,
And, those it moves, it knows to pay
In love and fragrant dew.

Perhaps the sweetest of its charms,
It carries wisdom in its arms.

Photo by Alexandru Trandafir on Unsplash

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