Free-flowing gushes of raindrops
Free, yet confined to its road
Falling from sixty or seventy feet
Stepped upon stones, some pushed and some towed.
Freshly washed faces of cliff-sides
Gleaming with sparkles and squeaks
Cascading torrents of sorrow
The troughs so much deeper than peaks.
Shoving against river boulders
Bouncing from dark, angry rocks
Opening doors and a new way to flow
Baffling and loud, thumping knocks.
Time never stops to take stock of its rage
Adventures must always go on
Having us see what the journey will bring
That wink has been glimpsed and is gone.
Constantly changing and crashing,
Falling then swimming away
Dripping through hands that are cupped with a thirst
The soft knowledge harder than clay
Where are we going this minute?
Why did we stop and stay put?
What shall we do in our voyage?
Which is the happiest route?
The Fall is a graceful ascendance:
To stare as I share every eye
With so many options yet over we go
As the rest of the world flows on by.