I love how sparkling water moves through a stream,
so random, chaotic, even playful in the sunlight,
but always blindly pushing toward the sea.
And I love how it meets every obstacle without complaint
going around, over, or eventually through even stone
while gently humming a simple, joyful tune.
And I love the cool air under the surrounding trees,
and how small birds sing and flitter about.
Life should be joyful, they seem to say.
Once, overlooking the Grand Canyon,
I marveled at how the water had sculpted the stone.
But only now do I begin to understand.
Water does not fret about time,
is not discouraged by minutes, days, or years,
but dances against the backdrop of eternity.