Rivers flow nowhere, they say,
Meandering through the land,
Carving paths of least resistance,
Guided by an unseen hand.
Yet in their aimless wandering,
A purpose can be found,
Nourishing the earth beneath,
Making life abound.
Mountains, majestic and tall,
Cast shadows on the ground,
But as the sun traverses the sky,
The shadows turn around.
The mountains climb their own darkness,
Rising above the shade,
Reaching for the heavens above,
In a cosmic masquerade.
And in this dance of nature,
Where rivers flow and mountains rise,
Existence itself starts to giggle,
At the absurdity of its disguise.
For in the grand scheme of things,
Where everything is one,
The rivers and the mountains,
Are just having some fun.
The illusion of separateness,
Is what makes existence smile,
For in the end, it's all a game,
Played out in divine style.
So let the rivers flow nowhere,
And mountains climb their shade,
For in the laughter of existence,
The universe is made.