Updated: Nov 2, 2020
I went walking one day, alone in the wood,
noting how it was neither bad nor good,
and came upon a little creek there flowing
into the thicket, beyond my knowing.
So I followed along it’s intimate bank
and traversed the terrain as it sank,
growing, swelling, becoming bigger,
and flowed into a mighty river.
As I wandered along, its winding shore
I saw ten creeks, maybe more,
twist together, their waters married.
All big rivers, from tributaries.
I’d traced the waters, from that stream,
to the rivers, then to the sea
and watched them mix into the blue,
the brown mud cleared; the water renewed.
Then to the sky, that water rose
and fell back to Earth, in steady droves.
It fed the ground, below my feet,
then trickled back, into the creeks.
All springs, rivers and oceans turn,
each made new by the current’s churn.
All are different, though they flow the same;
each fed by drops, of different rain.
A million drops, together drive home
into the great wide blue unknown.