The Brook

Looking down and pondering deep,

At the luminous brook that flows without sleep;

I wondered what always kept it so strong,

As it passed along serenely humming a dreamy song.

Some sheep flocked near its waters sweet,

And sipped on its goodness to beat the heat;

The brook appeared content, even as I thought,

How could it be so generous, when it should be distraught.

A few small fishes had made the brook their home,

A line of trees flourished along, that bore juicy pome ;

As birds of different feathers flocked the luscious wood,

They added to life’s symphony, strings of brotherhood.

What happened in that space and time, one couldn’t really miss,

A little stream brought the world alive, with its compassionate kiss;

To give is to get, and the brook had proved it right,

My little selfish self, dissolved in its sight.