The River

[Medslijun]

Love flows,
itself a hidden stream
beneath the city
sleeping—
fear and hope 
rush downstream,
unseen
but not unfelt.

Joy runs
along a path at dawn,
hungry for the day
to come,
longing for the newborn sun—
a vision
neither commenced 
nor yet done.

Grief tears --
no, stabs --
jagged blade,
flash severing flesh,
leaving us to wonder
at the carnage;
realizing it is us,
as we crumble 
to the ground.

Stabs doesn't make sense if you then go on to say severing. Tears would be more appropriate.

God spills
from the clouds above,
washing away
crimson tears
lifting what can stand,
leaving the rest: 
an offering
to what could not be.

Love flows,
itself a hidden stream
beneath the city
sleeping—
carries fear and hope,
unseen but not
unfelt.

Show don't tell. Create a description for "unseen but not / unfelt".

Joy runs
along a path at dawn,
hungry for the day
to come,
longing for the newborn sun—
a fever dream
commenced or done.

God spills
from the pounding rain,
glass that cuts
through flesh once
stilled,
bringing that which is
alive—
waking that which will be
woken.

"Glass that cuts" I don't really see how it relates to the rest of the stanza. Either cut it out or change it to create a better flow to the beginning of the stanza.