A river is born
As the ball rolls,
Moisture captured
In upper strata,
Bleeding to layers below.
Impressions made;
Streams carved;
The universe is marked
By passing thought.
From irrigated channels,
Ideas unsaid find root.
Worlds are created.
Worlds are changed.
And life takes new meaning,
If only for a moment,
Until the ball rolls again
In fields yet untilled.