The Law

A brook carves its way
by two methods:
flowing down,
never ceasing.
That’s the Law, the only Law.

You say no,
stop and regroup. Plan,
or let the path suggest itself
first.  The path springs eternal —
that’s the Law, the ony Law:

tap the spring first, then dig the channel.
You will tell the brook
how to flow, what
works, what’s tested, say 
that’s the Law, the only Law.

But there’s that brook.
Can’t argue with results —
it’s got banks to roll through.
You love to sit by its banks.
That’s the Law, the only Law.

You dig, it cuts.  You make it happen,
it allows it to happen.  You surge,
dawdle, surge;  it just keeps
going, is always a brook even as it changes.
That’s the Law, the only Law.

The Law says what’s right for a brook
isn’t right for you, or for you, or perhaps
for anyone who’s not a brook.  If the brook
carves, why do you care how it carves
if it follows the Law, the only Law,

the Law that says downhill
draws out the flow, that constancy
gets things done, that the intention
is found in the flow?
That’s the Law, the only Law.