The Stream Remains

It’s all a jumble.
Logs perched helter-skelter
splintered in their crash to the earth.
Branches, now silver,
tangled
between rocks and roots.
Rocks exposed and broken
by the force of the stream.

Beneath it all
the water slides, splashes and rests
slipping
beneath the tangle of obstacles
expressing
as a stream,
an undercurrent of peace
and purpose amid the ruckus
left behind after last winter’s storm.

The trees and logs
come and go,
water and seasons
come and go,
even the rocks
eventually,
come and go.

Still, the stream remains;
a flow
between obstacles
a timeless
always new
journey.