Dreams
Wonderment, under the shade of the leaves
Close to where the rivers breath
As the mountains snow replenishes the liquid,
Like a drop of rain,
It is done without being thought of in vain
It gathers; the droplets do, filling a void.
That is not to be destroyed,
With nourishment and sustenance giving life to many,
It starts with a morsel of water,
Then modified and multiplied,
Soon the swelling of the creeks,
Turning a stream into a river
Oh, how the gallantry will deliver,
Planting a droplet in the watershed
Giving hope; freedom, and brilliance said
Daring countless dreamers, to become visionaries.
Believing in themselves as part of the river,
And refusing to wither.
Flowing, the water moves the stones
Paving the path to where the sweet breeze blows
And like a play on its final scene,
The curtain will close, and it will be known,
That the river, once in flux, is pristine.
Copyright © Paul Keenan | Year Posted 2011
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