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.