Sunday Poem

Leaf on the River

 

A single leaf upon the stream,

No paddle, path, nor steadfast dream.

It turns where eddies choose to spin,

A quiet tale carved deep within.

 

It floats through light, through shadowed bend,

Its journey shaped by wind and end.

The water laughs, then softly weeps,

It stirs the depths, then gently sleeps.

 

So is a life, when storms arise—

We drift beneath uncertain skies.

We cling to calm, yet cannot stay,

The river wills, and we obey.

 

But oh, the grace in letting go,

In learning how the currents flow.

In being tossed, yet not unmade,

A leaf that dances, not afraid.

 

No map to chart, no fight to win—

Just trust the pull, the world within.

For even when the rapids call,

The leaf survives the rise and fall.

 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=jawIMBLZ1D8

 

Die Moldau Bedrich Smetana

Done