I am but a mere scribe
Without ink or paper,
Your many stories unfold.
I am burdened with your memories;
Your words have become mine,
My tears have mingled with yours.
I write your stories with liquid time
With my gnarled ageless fingers;
For I am a witness to your life,
Aware of every ebb and flow.
I stare down into your depths,
My life force cascading into you,
Forming a mesmerizing image
Of me within you.