Years meander like meadow streams
innocent, fresh and pure.
Maturity widens the mind
as flow grows stronger
and thirsting for fullness
perceptive rivers beckon.
The haste of youth blooms
into gushing waterfalls
that frolic without hesitation
to splay in all directions
splendorous morning rainbows
and sparkling facets
that edge the clarity
of timelessness.
Oceans lap in slow wait
and lull into the mystery
of their deep unsuspecting
time travellers.
Pulsating tides take the pace
to gentler rhythms
that soothe and control
into slow sauntering sands .
Streams and years absorbed,
but in every meadow
there is a crevice, a channel
just waiting for new rain to fall.
© Stella Armour 2015
