The Mountain Stream

The gurgling call of waters clear, In valleys wrapped where spirits cheer, Each ripple tells of journeys vast, As currents trace through future’s past.

With pebbles clad in sparkling lace, And sunbeams dancing on their face, The shouts of ages sing along, Within the earth where I belong.

Through shrub and glade, the spirits blend, Enchained by echoes that ascend, In tender grace where all’s sustained, The stream shall flow and never feigned.

• Dorothy Wordsworth