The time flows all too quickly now,
like crystal-clear, sparkling mountain water.
It rushes and bubbles, laughing and giggling,
like a forest stream – a silver thread in a green wood.

I stare into the still parts of the stream and see myself –
a familiar and yet changed face gazing back.
I cup my hands to try to hold this rushing water,
but it drips, trickles and splashes away from me.

I sigh deeply, but then I remember –
water is an amazingly versatile thing.
So I jump in, allowing it all to wash over me.
I let the waters swirl around me, holding me in their embrace.
And once again, I remember to soak it up.

© 2012. Annabelle Peake Markey. All rights reserved.

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