A River Without a Name

I feel the deep rumblings
and gentle splashes
somewhere deep inside,
a river is born
without a name,
it's got nothing left to hide;
a seeking, a longing,
a cleansing, a flowing -
colours of a changing course,
a trickle from a fountain
is enough to quench
the thirst of a weary traveller,
who travels not to seek, but to love.