Am I white on black Or black on white? The world may never know

Until I am used, a Blank canvas awaits, Words dance in silent whispers, To tell Fragile stories that deliver. I come from a tree but not with a breeze, Although you can say I am a white leaf

I rise and fall at the moon’s command, and stretch beyond the reach of land. I cradle seaweed and creatures deep, while guiding lights above me sweep.

I roar, I rumble, I burble. I splash, I murmur, I gurgle. I can sound like thunder. I can pull you down under.

I start out small, yet grow to be, a winding path that feeds the sea.