The Never Ending Path

The sun’s feeble rays project,
Marking the beginning of a new day,
The young stream trickles slowly, soft as a needle drop,
Swishing through the daffodils, cleansing the earth.
Clear and cool, so innocent the young,
Alive with the soft touch of spring.

The sun rises, casting shadows along the river,
Casting light upon the never ending path.
Growing, the stream picks up speed,
Running through the cottonwoods,
Its water warm with the touch of summer,
Affecting everything it touches.

The sun is at its zenith,
Marking the height of the day,
The stream flows, ripples through fallen leaves
Of every hue, green, orange and red,
Running with the fountain of life,
Wise, a conscious awe inspiring and sanguine,
Wandering through an endless maze, a never ending path,

Then as the sun begins to fade,
The stream cools, no longer home to life,
The stream slows, slows in the never ending maze,
Melts, merges into others, slowing, trickling
Almost to a stop, emptying into the vast, blue-black
Openness, the final end to the endless maze,
The end to the never ending path.