I observe the stream, sourced from a clear mountain spring. It's on a journey to something great, something global. On its journey it passes over and through meadows and boulders and pebbles and forges its course with a single purpose. Its energy is closer, though, determined to find the best way forward, encouraged by gravity and elevation. It instinctively knows where it's going, but it experiences here and now to the fullest.
The stream follows channels previous waters have formed, and also branches out, adapting to new obstacles and circumstances. On its journey the stream spreads (mostly) life and joy, breezes and melodies - sometimes peaceful, sometimes excited, sometimes ambitious - but sometimes an overabundance of resources leads to flooding, destruction and ultimately new courses being carved out for the future.
As it flows, it joins other streams and changes its character as they share a purpose and offer their origins and become a new branch - then join other tributaries until they all together become a mighty river, much different than the bouncing, flouncing mountain stream. When did they cease to be tributaries? And all the while, the heart is still of a mountain stream singing to the trees melody and harmony together.
