I go where the stream goes…

I go where the stream goes…
I sing what the stream sings…
Sometimes roaring and thundering…
Sometimes clear and calm.

Immersed in the wonder…
I return to my center…
Remember where I came from…
And follow the stream into peace.

Here I am safe…
My lookouts being the hawks and the eagles…
It is time to make my camp…
And let the falling night hide me.

My brothers and sisters are cherubs…
Always offering me a new theme…
Like so many books all heights and colors…
Or a new artist from their extensive jazz collection.

Our life, into our own hands has been entrusted…
But to what end? To climb the highest tree in the woods?
Or to follow the stream…
You decide.

I love you,

Annie