The Trickle

It started as a trickle
From an old artesian well
The trickles grew to ripples
and then began to swell.

The ripples merged together
Gained shape,began to look
And then within a little while
The ripples were a brook

As if bent on fulfilment
In pursuance of a dream
The brook took on momentum
And then became a stream

The stream in turn sped quickly on
Its destiny at stake
Tumbling to the valley floor
The stream became a lake

The lake soon found its level
And no longer could contain
The water held within its banks
So, on it went again

From the lake was born a river
Sweeping onwards, wild and free
And, growing wider by the mile
To meet the deep blue sea.

The sea consumed the river
Then the sea became no more
For it ended as a whisper
In the mighty ocean's roar.