Waterfall

It started as one great body of water,
until the river, at the cascade’s head, 

was distributed in a million drops. 

Each had its character and course defined; 
combined, they drew a veil across the rocks.

None chose to fall; and though each individual

cast its arc, and suffered eccentricities,

its path was largely chosen by its start.

Some tours were short and barely underway

when they were dashed, left scattered on the rocks.

Others swooned from start to end in glory

their vaulting bows sang hymns straight to the heart

But all, once at the bottom, met again 

in that great body from which they’d emerged