Call of the Waterfall

Mossy edge of turquoise stream palm-size granite rocks which gleam and shimmer with the water from a sparkling waterfall--I'll come to hear the sounds which fill the air; moist teardrops falling on my hair. At times I hear the water call among the buckeye trees so tall, the rustling wind, the birds that nest. This land is where I'll take my rest when dawn has died. I'll make my bed here on the ground. I'll lay my head in final rest right here. And here I'll die without a thought of fear.