Clear our streams of consciousness.
Purge our wagging tongues in purity.
Clean our mottled, ambivalent hearts.
We are the keepers of earth’s flame:
We will decide the fate of waters,
limitless, mercury-less fish, blue
skies filled with sprite-birds singing.
Get under the waterfall of the living;
death is easy and surprisingly cheap.
Enter clear streams & wash away guile.
Wash hands filled with blood and mayhem.
Clear streams pierce through our amnesia.
Clear streams give amnesty for indulgence.
It is not our vast metropolises that will
reflect the greatness or genius of mankind.
It will be in the simplicity of our clear streams.