Streams

There are streams beneath this forest.
Silent and deep, they run like snakes in sand.
Unseen but for the life they nurture,
Trees, flowers, fruit and grass.

There is a wondrously nimble magic in them
A delicate balance of reason and spirit
Bend these boughs no more than they were meant to be
And stomp no charm that you cannot rebuild.

Stir not with vigour, these serene waters
Lest they turn murky and sour
Delve not so deep oh curious wanderer
Where even the stars will fail to please your restless heart.