Be a leader

Not a follower

That's what she always heard

But how can she lead

If she doesn't know how?

She's been watching the stream

Everyday at the same time

The icy water, stinging her

She holds the water in her hands

The water follows the stream

Yet it's still so beautifully independent 

She wished she was the water

She wished to carry, follow, urge

others to follow alongside her

But she wasn't the water

She was the sand, the pebbles

The small fish that the water grasped

and pulled beneath the streams

Following, but not noticed

She pressed both her hands into the water

Her eyes gently shut

She embraced the cool touch

She leaned forward, allowing her body to limply slide into the water

With a silent splash

She began floating on the stream

Following, being carried

Then she began to sink

Brushed by the other things beneath

She parted her lips and swung within the stream

Tasting the salty air

She was the sand

The pebbles

The tiny fish that the stream led to a new destination

She acknowledged the icy hold the water had around her 

As she was gliding

She saw the blur of the top of the water above

Releasing the tense feeling in her muscles

Letting go

So that she too,

Could be carried by the water 

That the stream lead