Men and Rivers

Once an old traveler traveled a trail,
Musing upon minute detail,
But halted his hike when his eye caught the gleam
Of a sunbeam revealing a resident stream.
The beholder beheld the stream held in line,
Cutting and carving the sharp incline.
"Oh," said the spectator, "Isn't this great!"
"It's rapid and rampant, but won't deviate."
"Though steepness and obstacles hedge up the way,"
"The water flows straight and will straightaway stay."

He headed uphill until at the top,
When the water again caused him to stop.
The observing observer saw in his view
The trickling tributary here was askew.
More easy and lazy the streamlet now swerved,
Creating a curious course that was curved.
"But why, thought the thoughtful, lone bystander,"
"Should the water be winding and prone to meander?"
For far back below he saw in his vision
The section of stream that poured with precision;
Yet, here on the forest floor that's flat
Is where the cold current can't stay where it's at.

Then something clicked in the clever man's mind,
As he realized that rivers are the same as mankind.
For of men and rivers, both tend to shift;
Where the path of ease puts you, it's easy to drift.
But the path to perfection has harder things given,
And without them no man could straightly be driven.

- written by me on my mission (2004)