Sunday, March 20, 2016
A Small Tributary
What is this afterglow?
Why fall into the small tributary?
It glows at the intersection,
For it leads in all weathers.
The questions it asks are simply
The cold and inert types of joys.
One day it laughs, then crackles,
To feed the frenzy and rush of
Victorious sounds of nearby fish.
What may the sun do in the old days?
The river is older than the sun,
The sun is just beaming forwards,
Enlightening us in all knowledges
Of the university of living.
We may see the joy of the crossroads
Of this joyous sound,
We may see the small tributary
And feel the weather well.
Topic(s) of this poem: river