My Rippling Stream

By Lydia Chorpening

 

I sat beside my rippling stream - thinking

And into its chilly waters - plinking

Little pebbles that lined the shoreline there

I looked around and saw a robin - hopping

And watched as he was often - stopping

Listening for the worms beneath the mosses green

I looked heavenward and saw white fluffy clouds - gliding

Driven by the wind in no particular shape -abiding

Released as lambs in early spring

The sun of late afternoon kept creeping - peeking

As out from behind the clouds - sneaking

Into its bed where it would spend my night

I thought beyond the clouds and sunshine - praying

That I might be always in God's presence - staying

Though I could not always sit beside my rippling stream

Psalm 16:11 “”You will show me the path of life: in your presence is

fullness of joy: at your right hand there are pleasures for evermore.”