trickled run-off filtering between roots

of forest trees, seeking lower ground

finding tiny rivulets rich with soil bits

tumbling over pebbles, searching out paths, joining to form a crick, then creek

lower and lower into a stream where

my love and i lie on grassy bank

drinking in sounds of tinkling, slithering  dipping, crashing glistening waters moaning, singing, defying, bullying

plummeting to fulfill gravity’s charge and we, laughing, hold each other

joyous to be part of the sentient and non-sentient order that includes us

however reluctantly