two streamlets gurgling through your woodwind notes
oh Smetana - it was our lives you wrote
and life is dreaming - who can stop the flow
or channel the direction it will go?
a river - traveling faster by the minute
gathering our existences within it
some will sound the horn - and choose their fate
while others paddle and procrastinate
the river passes rites - when humans come
like streamlets - finding unity as one -
in moments celebrated in a dance -
so joined two lives grow stronger and advance
through evening's argent path - where far-off stars
remind the wise how transient they are
for trials will rise from which they cannot flee
while facing rapids of adversity
at last the river meets its resting place -
swept into the ocean's interface
where sunlight draws its moisture - forming rain -
enabling tiny streams to flow again
we too must be recycled in our role
as players in this earth's vast living whole
becoming part of all we've ever known
like dandelions before the seeds have blown
©
Hazel Hall
31 July 2012
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