the mountain

f   l   o   w   s

past the thousand beautiful places
where it might stay

on and on it goes

splashing over the smoothe bare rocks
their subtle colors shining in the sun

past the grapevine tangle, the maple leaves,
the rotten logs and green-gold moss.

seeping through the crevices where the crawdad hides

down and over

       to linger in a pool.

Always going with the flow                                    Always giving up what has come

for what is


From where it comes, there it shall return

everthing is cool.