Footfalls Of An Impervious Lover

Fantastically large, the grass fed rills winded lazily through a mountain pass, row upon row of bright eyed daffodils in luxuriant natural grandeur climbed along the southern ridge, a yellow mass interspersed with hints of pink, radiant whites; their spirited colors, their sweet forms cast along the ledges hanging from on high down through the valley beneath an envious sky. As if the sun's evening rays were sprinkled with the uncontrolled beauty of the place there stood a rock mouthed cave, huge, unwrinkled where water leapt to smooth its ageless face currents entering slow in tranquil grace, rolling, turning, reforming from the deep, tossing round an ever widening base; like supplicants lapping at their master's feet flowing into the stillness of hypnotic sleep. What then dwells inside the cavern's cover, between the falls, its stone heart echo beating footfalls of an impervious lover approaching, rising from the jetting springs shimmering waves in eternal pleading imprisoned within the submerging cell in one last gasp, perpetually repeating sensual fragments of this grandiose spell the waters of his strength in adoration fell.