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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2068099
by Logan
Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #2068099
We chart life's ebbs in seasons
Drops

Precipitation gathers
From frantic clouds we’re torn
Screaming, falling to the earth
Dreaming that we’re born
Some will hit the water
Some will hunker up inland
Some may crop up on the rocks
... or bunker down in sand
We all still find a river
A channel to call home
Winding through a landscape, carved
In earthen rock and stone
Forever moving, flowing
There may be dams, but no returns
The pace, forever growing
With the seasons’ rapid burns
Until we reach our delta
A daunting estuary
Where one and all, must take the call
And make their way to see
An ever fickle mistress
With currents long and wide
Trained up for the undertow
We balance in the tide
Twin forces pull upon us
Push and pull us from the floor
Ocean’s saline, cynical
It’s seen it all before
Forever treading water
In a game of sink or swim
Some of us will lose it all
…some of us will win
An ocean made of raindrops
Each different from the next
Regardless of the journey
Regardless of the tests
North or south will take us
The circle it must end
Finish, to begin once more
… to once more play pretend
And though glaciers move slowly
In time they catch us all
North or south, no different
The circle makes its call
With memories of raindrops
And peaceful river bends
Glaciers move slowly
… still water in the end
© Copyright 2015 Logan (stipey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2068099