A Melancholy Brook
 
Poor little brook, why are you crying?
You’re so calm and peaceful in your idling
While raging rivers move so swift
No time to float about and drift
 
Their journey to the sea moves too fast
You crawl and ponder to make it last
Time will come when you’ll reach the end
A moment to treasure, I assure you my friend
 
Raging rivers are like men who can’t wait
Moving too fast, unsure of their fate
They trip, they fall,
They go ‘round and ‘round
While the calm and collected,
Self assuredly bound
 
Rivers in their haste look at you with envy
The way you swagger like a noble gentry
Marching through the river bed
With lofted banners
A triumphant knight
Endowed with civil manners
Little brook, you can hold your head high
Look at yourself, your fame is on nigh

Featured in Wilderness House Literary Journal www.whlreview.com.

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