Musing

I come to this brook to listen to the water, and watch the waves glisten, and loose my thoughts to meander over the stones. I am bystander to their explorations around barricades of sticks, leaves and raised ground, over sharp edges of rocks, and ledges of smooth pebbles. My thoughts trickle, dance or bob to conclusions, or get lost in some distance. I have tossed several ideas to this brook. Fickle currents have swallowed them sometimes, but you might be surprised what endings some came to! A bit of wonder that produced philosophy there in the sunlight, and poetry evolving from several words floating near reflections of the wings of birds.