stream

A glacid stream,
older than man can count.
A journey which never ends;
it sometimes rushes,
it sometimes crawls,
it may hide,
it may fall.

Its path perfected day by day,
a path so deep so green
it's a crafted piece of jewellery.

It finds a brother, they create a river
of blue unseen before.
Turquoise waters flow down this valley,
where trees of all sorts you can find,
and fruit of each and every kind.

They scent the air, colour the leaves.
All because of a single, little stream.