Water

by lioness

Water rushing in a stream, over rocks and branches.
The current is strong, blending, twisting beautifully over the rocks.   Small
swirls of life encapsulating the death of the stream. Water, making the rocks
appear alive, for a moment it looks as if the rock can move through the waters
of life. Rocks are dead, they can not truly live.        Inert matter, no
personality, just existing. Deception, trickery, facade.
The water is smooth, refreshing, moving, flowing, growing stronger as it moves.
The rocks form obstacles. They are hard, cold, impervious, even the water can
not penetrate the core, nor can it move them.
From the streams edge it appears the water will sweep away the rocks, make
them one with the flow. Force them into the water's persona. Just a facade,
but it appears so real we believe in it. We are swept up into a world of
fantasy, trying to fit the square peg in the round hole perhaps?
Sadness, Water can only blend with a like substance, rocks can not infuse with
anything. No matter how strong the flow becomes, the rocks still lay lifeless,
inhabiting only their own world, never able to become permeated.
Branches flow freely down the stream. They can only flow until the current or
other obstacle stops their travel. The only force in life's stream that is
truly free is  water. Let it saturate your soul. Giver of life. Replenishing
the drought, feeding the cells, creating life.
We all have the potential to be water, but most choose to be rocks. Sink or
swim? The choice is ours. 

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