It has neither the power nor presence of the majestic rivers,
Yet, it has its place.
There are no great waterfalls to strike one’s awe,
No roaring, rapid white water, no eagles soaring high.
It just meanders along among the small things,
Through dappled light, over stones worn smooth.
Its banks may be breeched by one small child,
No bridge is needed here to find the other side.
There’re places all along the way,
to sit and ponder beside the pools and ponds,
to become a small part of the small things
that belong in this small spot of the world.
A crowning achievement to have created,
In such a large world, a place such as this,
Where in the palm of your hand
You can carry all that is needed
To quench the desires of each small, thirsty heart.
Ron