Waterfall Valley

Down and off the beaten path if I just keep going now there’s a place that I have seen and I am not quite sure how From the roar of the valley is the flowing blood of a waterfall nestled behind the cottage wood the rocks are gleaming and streaming with the mist as the water tumbles and breaks Moss is the carpet bark is the wallpaper leaves are my ceiling the water is my guardian It’s constant pitter patter I cant even remember not hearing its everpresent chatter I wonder what the sky must be saying high above the canopy of the forrest where flies the dove As I walk into the depths and the grotto now before I yearn to see it with my eyes and make my hear soar Just like the place in my head not a single twig out of place there stands the waterfall and the cottage full of grace and I feel the roots growing and the trees always knowing that they must do their silent work with the babble of the brook But all together now they must play a part of the bigger picture where everything else must start And to this place I was drawn and I’ll never understand why but I think I’ll stay a while ‘til dusk turns to dawn.