Flowing … (Poetry Monthly)

The water seeps and flows
through earth and rocky cleft,
down narrow gullies flows,
through fields meanders, grows
hour by hour, mile by mile
from high to lowland lows …            

and on  a winter day
in sheltered by-way pause,
it froze awhile,
but soon fresh mildness melted –
once more it moves, flows on;

the children watch upon
a bridge – each quickly throws
their ‘pooh-stick’ in
(which one will win?)
as heavily the deeper
river past them flows;

and some is syphoned off
to city homes, ensures
the sink tap ever flows
for cup or garden hose;

and all the while below
the weeds bend with the flow,
but fish swim, static, so
into their open mouths the grubs
will go with current flow;

sometimes wide, and sometimes narrow,
sometimes deep, and sometimes shallow,
sometimes fast, and sometimes slow,
relentless, constant flow …

until absorbed, engulfed,
impacting and embraced,
in turbulence and wildness,
the stormy, tidal vastness of
tumultuous ocean motion.