In Infinity

Crawling out of my cave,

I search for a stick or a stone.

But, alas, my hands are empty.

Maybe I can find a pool of water.

And there, just over a hill,

Lies a little lake.

I bend over to take a drink,

And I see my reflection.

How unsightly!

I must bathe at once,

So I am clean and lovely.

But then what will happen

To the drinking water?

I must think about this.

It concerns me.

It flows down

From the mountain peaks,

To fill this basin.

It flows naturally.

And what comes and goes

In infinity,

Lives up to the saying,

“What will be, will be.”