The Stream
The constantly moving water
Of a cold and sparkling stream
Allows me to make a hopeful wish
Lets me believe in my dreams
It takes away my worries
Then releases all my fears
Flows swiftly along, fluidly strong
Never minding my dripping tears.
I wonder where it takes itself
Through forest woods and open plains
Down the hills to valleys, along the city lanes
Rocky rapids, small curves and turns
Sometimes silent, often loud
Always stretching to reach, to yearn
Growing in strength and size, becoming proud
For soon it comes to a great span
Of water, far and wide
From horizon to horizon, it cannot touch the land
Stream merges with the ocean and slips out with the tide.
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