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It is serene, a stream flows behind the house, beyond are fields

A pastoral landscape where the geese come to visit daily

To our front lies a lake, momentarily drained, latent moor awaiting its fill of spring

Beautiful in its dormant state, winter sleep slowly leaving soon to be replenished by life

For hours it rained, feeding the earth, coating the land in a seeming silver

A glass reflecting as the all is washed by shining moonlight then a sunny dawn

But it is the gentle flow of stream that captures my gaze today

Yesterday it was as a child, slowly playing, gurgling, no pace, gentle, soft

And overnight it grew up

Faced now by fast, urgent torrent, eddies swirl in the current, the banks so high before now lost

Even its light green tint has aged to brown, as if sun caught and burnt if this could be said of water

It races so fast, unheeding of the vista it divides, encroaching into the surroundings

Flattening grass, scouring the banks, seeking it seems to gain more height, growing each passing minute

Low branches like grasping fingers collecting things gathered, grass, leaves, sticks
And so our stream becomes a river, it has grown from child to adult in such short time

I ponder this change, a life mirror of dynamics

From a young life seeing everything, to an adult in fast existence with no time to stop and wonder

As time passes, I hope it will slow down, I want to tell it how good this will be

Finding the child underneath once again

Feb 2022

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