High amongst the mountain peaks,
Was a sparkling pool of blue,
The mother source of ponds and lakes,
And streams and rivers, too.
And from that pristine wonderment,
Two mighty rivers came about,
That started as a single stream,
Before they split apart.
That stream came down the mountain side,
Separating as it flowed,
One branch went East, the other West,
As the water spilled below.
Though sisters at their source,
Now each rolled on alone,
Yet retaining common drops,
That together they had known.
Two individual rivers,
Each with a different style,
Not recognized as sisters now,
As each traveled on for miles.
One river was rambunctious.
With wild rapids and steep falls,
Tempestuous, exciting,
A challenge, overall.
A source of power to be harnessed,
To fulfill the needs of man,
Great reason for this river,
Indeed, part of God's plan.
The other, flowing gently,
Was quiet and serene,
A river made for poets,
And for other folks who dream.
Its purpose most important, too,
And within the good Lord's plans,
As nourishment for hearts and souls,
And those deeper needs of man.
And thus the sister rivers flowed
Far and away from one another,
Both doing as their God proposed,
Yet not behaving like each other.
Eventually each river reached
Its destined ocean shore,
And through the motion of the sea,
They were united, as before.
And in the blue, God reached the two,
And brought them peace and calm,
Then returned them to the source,
From whence they had moved on.
Their origin diminished,
But never quite undone,
The two sisters now rejoined,
Became again as one.
