Wellspring

Spouts the wellspring.

Its trickle hates the deaf.

Earth's golden contents stain the countryside,
Pouring from the wellspring socket.

Great glistening rivulets,
Carry a million secrets,
On their razor ridges,
Purged in whirlpool vapors.

Endless is this wellspring,
Ignored by mortal man.

Whence does its supply flow?

Lusting by with reins in hand,
Gallops the mortal man.

Hoof prints imprint,
The wellspring's path,
And are filled by,
The erasing force,
Steadfast in infinity.