Storms, inevitably arising

By Author Unknown

The ocean seems such a long way off,
high in the mountain drainage.
Boulders sit for centuries
beside the stream,
unmoved by its perfect song.
So many days and nights,
circles spun 'round the brilliant sun,
seasons of change and return,
change and return.

Yet even massive rocks
so sure and solidly standing,
fall before the irresistible movement
of storms inevitably arising.
They spill into the flow,
they hear the water's song - finally!
and are drowned in it.

Now they are only movement,
sometimes almost imperceptible
yet irrevocably drawn -
bumping against one another,
becoming smooth
like cobbles
like pebbles
like dust
dissolving in the current.

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