The rain has been relentless. The river by our home — dry for so long under the power of drought — is now fully flowing. As I stand there, it rushes past, carrying leaves, twigs, and pieces of my thoughts about the current affairs along with it.
Swiftly it moves, yet calming in its steady passage. It gives itself completely to the journey, generous and continuous. Washing away the dry emptiness and debris of neglect.
Watching it, I am reminded to do the same — to trust the course, to allow what is meant to flow, to believe that what is good will find its way.
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