Everyone should have a creek to run to
When burdened with cares of the world.
Not a flat land creek that furrows straight and deep
through good black earth,
But an Ozark highland creek, meandering through the hills;
Washing rock ledges clean,
then tumbling into pools of translucent blue
And seeping out again to dance along its’ gravely bed.
It should be fed along the way by mountain springs,
And seasoned with the rains that wash the hillside down.
Everyone should have a creek to run to;
To wash away cares in crystal waters fit to soothe
the pains of an aching soul.