The rushing water before me streams by without a thought

without a care. Wind blows in cool, lengthy zephyrs.

Overhead, the sun beams down on the lustrous world around,

the water swirling around and over a fallen tree.

An ant crawls across my skin and looks up, almost making eye contact.

The damp afternoon soil, my lovely seat, covered by vibrant leaves

hides many treasures. The water continues meandering, 

waving down the river, passing by discarded branches. 

Past the eroding island in the middle, I see-

on the other bank of the river- a family of ducks

swimming peacefully, lazily, without a care. Going against the water

then letting themselves be carried back to the beginning.

Clouds cover part of the sun bestowing a small shade upon me.

The trees behind me sing with the breeze. 

Still flowing, like time, the water passes by the fallen tree

washing the mud and dirt from its branches bare.

Softer than the ocean, tranquil, the water wonders

following its prewritten path and yet creating its own

flowing without a care, without a thought

gently, down the stream.