De Rivier

Once upon a time, there was a big wide river,
Thinking: why do I always flow here forever?
Always the same boring valley,
He knew it well, he knew it already.
Being a river didn't bother him,
But he wanted so badly to cross the mountain rim.
The other side, as he heard,
Was warmer and greener, a dazzling world.
He went crazy where he always stayed,
Longing for the other, greener glade.
He asked a climbing goat, a friendly beast,
'Hey, goat, have you been to the other side at least?
You must know, tell me real fast,
How do you climb over a mountain so vast?'
'Climbing,' said the goat, 'You start at the base,
You climb and you climb, you pause in place,
Then you keep climbing up the rocky band,
And over the top lies the other land.'
The goat was thanked, the river knew the drill,
He had a tough climb, a mighty hill.
He took a leap, seemed quite bright,
He bubbled, roared, and yelled: 'I'll climb with all my might!'
He stepped out of his banks, but didn't go far,
He stayed put, a sad memoir.
He called to the goat, high on the peak,
'I'll ask someone else, I won't be meek!'
He asked a bird: 'Hey bird, you come from there,
How do you fly over a mountain so rare?'
'Flying...' said the bird, 'Here's how it's done,'
He spread his wings and fluttered in the sun.
The river said: 'Thanks.' He braced for the flight,
He surged and swirled, shouting: 'I'll take flight!'
He rose a bit, thought he was soaring,
But truth be told, he wasn't exploring.
Meanwhile, the bird flew gracefully over the crest,
And the river yelled angrily: 'I won't rest!'
But then the sun spoke: 'River, you're too tense,
You won't reach ultimate happiness hence.
Just relax, don't flow so fast,
Lie down, on your back, at last.
Believe me, just watch and see,
By doing nothing, you'll reach the key.'
The river thought: 'Doing nothing, what's the use?
But let me try, I'm feeling obtuse.'
He followed the sun's advice,
Flowing so slow, as if on ice.
His water evaporated, his bed ran dry,
Unbelievable... Look, he could fly!
The sun was right, as a cloud he soared,
And the wind effortlessly over the top roared.
And as rain, the river fell back to the land,
Right where he wanted; on the other strand.
Well, that's all, end of the tale,
Oh, one more thing; here's the moral to hail:
'Don't stress, just have a blast,
Do nothing at all, that's how you'll last!'