She swallows the nearby polished pebbles,
Plopping them in her mouth.
Flowers adorn her flowing mane of hair,
And she lets them sift between her locks,

Lullabies are sung for all to hear;
And the creatures come, to witness her great beauty.
The sun glistens upon her skin,
So flawless in the luminous light.

Words waft from her mouth,
Hopes of promises for the future.
She is ever changing,
Her fountain of hair, twisting and turning,
With every which way the Winds move.

Sometimes, she is strong,
Overcoming the rigid land.
Other times, she sinks back into the soil,
From where her roots come from.

Some of her family visits,
Joining her and rejoicing their reunion.
Other family members curse her,
And plunder her glory with jealousness.

But though all of her hardships,
She is reminded that it is worth it.
She spots you in the distance,
Your feet pattering upon the lone swamp
She has become.
And despite her faded beauty,
You greet her with warmth,
And it is that same warmth
That keeps her flowing.

The stream.