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The Current

Droplets form, they build, they grow.
Down they fall, starting slow.

Raindrops plummet, falling fast.
It’s starting to look overcast.

Streams trickle, waters rise.
The dry riverbed’s demise.

Rivers flow, the current picks up.
Up and up and up and up.

Faster, faster, here it comes.
Build a dam before it runs.

Gushing, splashing, the pond it fills.
Stop it before it over-spills.

Dig some holes, make more room.
The lake, it forms, the thunder booms.

The current crashes, the waves they swell.
When will this end? No time to dwell.

Push and pull, that ocean tide.
More and more, will this subside?

The ground, it rumbles, the water recedes.
Pulling away the trees and the reeds.

Taller and darker, the tsunami grows high.
Building up, is it touching the sky?

There’s no escape, nowhere to turn.
That bright ol’ sun, it’s stopped its burn.

A teardrop falls, it hits the floor.
Another one forms, followed by more.

Down my cheeks, my chin, my neck.
Sodden chest. Oh damn! Oh heck!

Out and out and out it pours.
Who knows what could be the cause.

Down it comes, with force and might.
What’s the point in trying to fight?

Tread the water, tread it quickly.
Kick and scream, skin turns prickly.

Out of the darkness, a light appears.
Rising up, it brings old fears.

Bubbling up from the waters below.
Paddle quicker, no time to slow.

I turn to see the waters murk.
My heart begins to go berserk.

Fight or flight, what shall I do?
Or do I drown? What’s my cue?

Out of the silt a bloom appears.
What the heck. Why’s this here?

I paddle closer to see what’s what.
A lily pad? With a flower on top?

Hearing noises from left and right.
I turn to see a glorious sight!

Cautiously approaching, four strange shaped boats.
Desperately trying to keep afloat.

I’m not alone, now I see.
They’re struggling too, its not just me.

Closer, closer, closer they come.
They’re also searching for the sun.

Surrounding the flower, we watch it bloom.
It pulls near, is this too soon?

No, it’s not. The time is right.
We have to battle this terrible plight.

The flower, it whispers “Are you okay?
I can help you out today.”

We gather in its warm embrace.
This definitely feels like the right place.

“It won’t be easy, I’ll hold your hands.
But the pain will ease like trickling sands.”

We listen closely, we laugh, we cry.
Today is not the day we die.

We’re survivors, strong and true.
And now we know just what to do.

Working together, we pull the plug.
Next thing we know, we hear a glug.

The waters lower, sun starts to rise.
“You’re doing so well!” The flower cries.

“Keep on going, you can do it!
Before you know, you’ll get through it!”

“Pull more plugs, support each other.
I’ll hold your hands. Your floral mother.”

“No matter what, I’ll be here.
A lotus flower to fight your fears.”

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