A stream flows out of a well and into the gleaming warmth of the sun,
Through the forest it flows quietly and gradually,
The scent of leaves and the smell of spring fragrances the air.
Out of the forest the stream flows to join another river,
Faster the river flows and it feels the rush of the water,
Through the rapids it goes and into a large pastel colored canyon,
Through the hot summer air the river flows and comes to an opening,
Out of the canyon the river flows, and into a large open plain,
The air is quiet and peaceful here, yet the river rushes along,
Giving no heed to the serenity that surrounds it,
The river flows into the mountain’s, through rapids and waterfalls,
Curving around the outlines of the mountains, bending every which way,
Out of the mountains it flows, into a black, neglected land,
The water turns black and the river slows down,
All is dead here, there is nothing living,
The river speeds up and flows quickly out of the blackened land,
Into a paradise filled with wonder and life,
The light is bright and warm here, as the flowers bloom in the serenity,
The river stops and collects in a lake,
And reflects the bright light on its blue crystal waters.