There is water.
Water everywhere.
Everywhere she looks.
There is water.
The plains are drowned.
Drowned beneath the rushing rapids.
Rapids that threaten to engulf her until she is drowned.
There is so much water.
The plains are drowned.
It is only in the far off distance --
Distance away from the waves
-- that something prevails, rises.
The horizon of endless water is broken.
Broken by the high trees of the swamp.
It is only in the far off distance.
Endless struggles are waged until she finds it.
There is water still but lessened.
Lessened and slowed into calm and lower.
Lower that the recession of waters make her hooves sink into mud.
Mud that will dry only when waters recede.
Endless struggles are waged until she find it.
There was water.
Water everywhere.
Everywhere she looked.
There was water.
But the waters ebbed --
She awoke.