Metamorphosis of a Stream
It is serene, a stream flows behind the house, beyond are fields
A pastoral landscape where the geese come to visit daily
To our front lies a lake, momentarily drained, latent moor awaiting its fill of spring
Beautiful in its dormant state, winter sleep slowly leaving soon to be replenished by life
For hours it rained, feeding the earth, coating the land in a seeming silver
A glass reflecting as the all is washed by shining moonlight then a sunny dawn
But it is the gentle flow of stream that captures my gaze today
Yesterday it was as a child, slowly playing, gurgling, no pace, gentle, soft
And overnight it grew up
Faced now by fast, urgent torrent, eddies swirl in the current, the banks so high before now lost
Even its light green tint has aged to brown, as if sun caught and burnt if this could be said of water
It races so fast, unheeding of the vista it divides, encroaching into the surroundings
Flattening grass, scouring the banks, seeking it seems to gain more height, growing each passing minute
Low branches like grasping fingers collecting things gathered, grass, leaves, sticks
And so our stream becomes a river, it has grown from child to adult in such short time
I ponder this change, a life mirror of dynamics
From a young life seeing everything, to an adult in fast existence with no time to stop and wonder
As time passes, I hope it will slow down, I want to tell it how good this will be
Finding the child underneath once again
Feb 2022
Copyright © Graham Bentley | Year Posted 2022
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