Turmoil

The current swelled,
fueled by the tears of the evaporated masses.
It raged and swirled with liquid fury,
pounding its banks.
Still, the banks held,
though the roots and rocks that held it were torn away.

When the rage had abated and the fury was spent
it surveyed its work.
In horror, it saw that it had created destruction
making a once placid wood into a ruin.
And, for all its effort,
the bank still walled it in oppressively.
Only walls were higher, and the bed deeper,
holding it more securely than ever.

But in some places, the walls were destroyed,
and it lay in placid pools on the even ground.
[via Poor Blogger]