Swiftly flows

The river

Running down

The mountain

In the early spring.

The enthusiastic noise

Of rushing water

Lingers in the forest,

Leaving my soul

Quivering with

The sound of

Thunder.

 

The water Begins

With a roar,

So loud that

it wipes out

Any other

Sound.

 

I follow it

As it leaps,

And bounces

Over dirt and stone.

It sweeps 

The river’s bed,

Of lingering Debris,

And it laughs

And giggles

As it dances

Across

Meadows filled

With wild flowers

Of every kind.

The flow of the river

Slows

As it curves 

Around trees,

And fertile valleys.

It gurgles and

It chatters

As the stream

Meanders through

Green forests.

The brook 

Quietly

Murmurs,

As I remove

My shoes

And my socks

To place 

My tired feet

In the quiet

And peaceful

Water.

It is well.

I am at rest

With my soul.

Yu/stan/kema.