The Water

The Water…

The Mountain stands commanding,
the Earth is a solid force,
the Flower willingly leaves not its humble home in the soil,
The Mighty Oak sways, but remains an unmoving strength,
but the Water flows,
the Water flows;
the Water flows,
always moving,
always exploring,
always eager to find what is just around the bend
or under a bridge
or over a rock;
it winks at the Sun and twinkles as it dances
its way beside a small fishing boat or an enormous barge
and it happily sings its trickling song as it journeys;
it knows no fear of distance or time
or of getting lost along the way,
it travels with no map
and along no prepared route,
remaining open to change, to new paths, new territory to explore;
and though it may become angry at times,
raging at the obstacles mankind has placed in its way,
it quickly regains its composure,
returning to its joyful song, its playful dance;
and the Water flows;
without judgment of the land or boats or mountains it passes,
it recognizes only love in all it sees,
without attachment to what might wait ahead
or be left behind,
the Water flows,
the Water flows,
the Water flows…