I follow the stream on my morning walk,
Watching it flow with ease over lumps, bumps,
And small rocks leaving patterns on its way.
I wish I had a piece of news paper in my pocket.
I would make a paper boat,
Write a message maybe, watch it sail off
I bless this boat and all who sail in her…
The crowd watching give a roaring cheer,
Calling my mind back from the fringe of my imagination.
Not before I notice, three twigs drift with the stream
Reminding me of the pooh sticks, I played with my father.
The sting of memory, of childhood, when life was easy, free flowing.
I binged on life then, these days I binge a little slower, like my stream…