Changeling by the Waiting River

This water nymph leans against her cherry blossom tree overlooking her stream. Slow moving, clear enough to see your reflection -- vanity, which transforms narcissistic passersby. To her left, poetry translated from ancient Persia seeming to describe the very nymph before us in all of her righteous grace. To her right, words of warning float in a river stream a woman fallen in. "I wouldn't. The process isn't that kind" cries the being, midst transformation.
In an ongoing series of homages to imagined spirits from a speculative mythical past, wherein both of my mixed heritages belonged to one beginning story.