Said the old man to the river,
“I am a pebble to your torrent,
barely rattling as I am carried
far below my grassy knoll.”
And the river deeply rumbled,
flashing waves upon its’ crest,
as it pondered some rebuttal,
something wise it could empart.
“We are the same,” it finally answered,
“for I am but a tiny raindrop,
when my mouth is opened wide,
to shout into the roiling sea.”
From far off the ocean answered,
“I may drown the endless shoreline,
but in a lifetime, merely decades
I am powerless – to man.”
2024