overwhelmed. The waters rush by underneath you as you do your best to navigate them. As you hurry, to direct the current, you see small glimmering images in the deep. These images tease you with images of possible futures, beautiful scenes of your world working in perfect balance and ease. Sweet, flavorful visions of the other side of the hill are whispered to you by unseen lips, of a grander view of an entire universe, complete and pure, beyond the preoccupation of your personal garden. Oh cruel waters! Who has time with all of this to juggle, to consider he future?! The day is over in a blink. Exhausted, you measure up the damage. Night is falling, and you fall asleep while still making note of the new, updated debt of things you have to worry about tomorrow to add to the normal routine. The list is just layers upon layers. Sleep entombs you. You welcome the unconscious slumber. In the moonlight, baby puddles from today's flood mingle with ancient puddles dating back to the times when the land was young. Together they sing softly with the wind, weeping gently for their sick, precious host, cradling secretly all of life in their beautiful sorrow.