Behind the Waterfall 

A little old woman
In a thin white shawl, 
Stepped straight through the column
Of the silver waterfall,
As if the fall of water 
Were not anything at all.
I saw her crook her finger,
I heard her sweetly call. 
Over stones all green and glossy
I fled and did not fall;
I ran along the river
And through the waterfall,
And that heavy curve of water
Never hindered me at all. 
The little old woman
In the thin white shawl 
Took my hand and laughed and led me
Down a cool, still hall, 
Between two rows of pillars
That were glistening and tall. 
At her finger's tap swung open 
A wide door in the wall,
And I saw the crystal city
That's behind the waterfall.




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