Innocent stream, you
sparkle clear as glass;
milky mist captures
an artist's critique like a
painting.
Innocent stream, you've
grown larger, I see.
Still you shimmer
in honest purity, white
as could be.
Innocent river, you
have grown strong,
and with power
have carved your own path;
yet still, you're pure
as snow.
Innocent river, your
purity calls me out
from excuses.
Though twisted debris
and scum adorn your banks,
your flow, your chastity
remains.
Oh no!
Convergence!
The Murky River! So much Bigger!
Divert! Divert!
No time!
It sucks you in,
to join others in
its larger, murky force.
Now your
innocence
is lost
by the way
things really are.
And you can keep your purity
(longer than the rest)
as you can inspire
(all the rest).
But you
will hit
convergence.
Yes we all,
will hit
convergence.
Great verse. Applies easily to many facets of life. I like it a lot!
ReplyDeleteLost innocence. Such a common subject, so pervasive, and so important. I like your take on it.
ReplyDeletethis feels so sad and hopeless... but in reality, every stream of innocence that converges, adds a bit of innocence to the polluted whole, so although the stream may be lost, it still influences a change on the river it converged with...
ReplyDelete