The River

The source of the stream at the top of the isolated mountain,
Winding its way through the sharp rocks,
Gurgling, trickling, toddling,
Eager to begin its journey.

The larger river running through the trees,
Gushing, clambering, rolling,
Over ragged, rocky boulders,
Confident it will finish its journey.

The still largering river swirls through valleys and fields,
Twirling, swirling, whirling,
Cows drink from the water whilst willow trees dip their leaves,
As happy as a swallow flying over the river.

The river is still increasing its size as it moves through the crowded city,
Bubbling, rippling, slithering,
Busy boats travel to and fro across the rippling river,
Feeling as committed now as a plane half way across the world.

The mouth of the river,
Flowing, oozing, dribbling,
Fresh water meets salt water. Seagulls squawk and squeal,
It has reached its destination, proud to have reached the end of the journey.