She is the River. The current flowing upon the ravines, ran by the mother Earth. She is the waters. The deep abyss. Betweentimes she is a fleet - airless and calm. Another times she is a spring flood, overfull with fresh water. Another times - the lake, broad and fordless. Betweentimes - the ocean, the spanless might, able to fondle and bosom but devour with the storm. She is the waters. She flows and ensiles, evaporates and amasses again. She hauls in the wrinkles of the Earth with her River. Her currents are flexile and rushing..
He is the Mountain. The stone. The firmament, covered with gentle greenflow curls. He ascends to the welkin and visualizing the distant. He breathers the dew of the clouds. He is the first to face the sunrise and the last to pass the sunset. He can indulge the sun beams lush his flesh or can shade it with his tree sleeves. He is firm, dominant and still. He is always this way and he all sufficient. But there is lava inside of him, the idem blaze that ashake him. Somewhile he cannot slush it and it tears out, creasing the wounds on his flesh. Times pass and wounds are belted and lava turns into his firmament. And thereat he divines he is the flowing lava and he is also the abyss.
Once the River flowed upon the furrow of the Mountain. Belike the Mountain smiled so common to have nascent wrinkle, which was found by the River. The River overflowed with ea, the weeps splashed by the waves of waters. Flowing upon the Mountain, she left gleamy beads in his greenflow curls and made him replete with rains and cascades. While the Mountain lava planted through the bonds of his skin and chilled out in the cool waters turning into flecks of the Mountain, the stones.
Where ever the River flows, the Mountain flecks are always in her. How ever the sizzling the sun is, the gleam beads, vapouring, only shawl the green curls with the clouds and then, yielding, only feast with the purls.
If only the Mountain could remember that he is a mere lava and if only the River could fulfill the competence to stop her current, the Earh would shiver, intermarrying the Mountain and the River, rejuvenating and uncrumpling the wrinkles. The Mountain and the River would become the one with the Earth, conversing into the blossomy valley, the ground for the new springs and hills, and erect the new life ...