WARD of falling water, a white stream kept among wardens of stone. He appeareth as a slender fall let down through a court of dark spires, the pinnacles gathered close about the bright column like sentries about a king’s child, and the whole gorge crowded with forest gone to blood. His office is to be defended: other falls leap in the open and are seen from every rim, but this one the towers conceal, and the wanderer earns the sight of him by drawing near. The pinnacles were cut by the same water they now stand guard over, which is the way of all old loyalties. The red leans in from every side, the reddening forest pressing to the very brink; the stone does not yield; and the water, guarded, falls white and laughing through the blood.
The words above arrive with your print, pressed onto fine-art card.
