River Run

River romances the rock in its path, flowing around and over, offering its gifts in season, massage, fragrant bath, spring lilies from upper reaches, singing songs and riverine blues and always hoping for some acknowledgement of faithfulness. Stolid rock, in defense, never asking for such attention, remains unmoved, less concerned with things that flow and things that change, all offerings its due. Occasionally in a bemused way, its emotions range from cool to cold, lets, fractionally, parts into the flow, hardly noticeable. Eons pass, rivers path now changeable.