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The water scrambles down the muddy banks.
Washing across the sandy strips of beach.
Blanketing the rocks in a shimmering coat of blue.
Allowing God to cleanse his world.
Tall emerald reeds, coated in a thin sheet of green armor
Lightly swaying at the edge of the stream.
Like silent soldiers guarding their quarry.
Forever standing in a stiff strong row.
One brave general is sliced by the wind.
Never will he stand again.
Whispering his apologies to his comrades as he falls to the earth.
Not a breath of wind stirs the grieving protectors.
As they watch the silver belt of liquid slipping past their sanctuary.