Water
Rain on the rocks and the heather on high,
Fall on the mountain from a dark clouded sky.
Myriad droplets create pools of reflection,
Then streams all together in a downward direction.
It wends its way through rill and gully,
It babbles and scrabbles, in hectic hurry,
It soon is a river flowing and wide,
With fields and meadows on either side.
It ambles now no need for haste,
Meandering its way at a leisurely pace,
It swirls and whirls, as it joins with the flow,
Embracing an estuary in a wanton show.
Water finds its level, wherever it may be,
Eventually it ends up back into the sea.
The sea turns to clouds and then to rain,
So the original stream, lives, to stream again.
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