I wandered into the woods
and stopped by the creek.
It told me of all its adventures
and where it had been.
It told me of all the eyes
disappointed by what they saw;
how they fussed and whined
of it being too small.

The creek began to cry,
wishing it wasn't a let-down.
"Listen to me," I said
as I knelt to the ground.
"You may not have width,
but you have length.
You're steadily meandering,
giving Earth her strength.
Trees can grow near,
digging their roots deep
and they won't be washed away
before taking a drink.
You leave plenty of land
for critters to play.
Everyone loves
your tranquil pace.
Before you tell yourself,
'I'm too small.'
Think about how the trees
grow so tall."

© Stefani Lineberry

A poem written on G+ on February 02, 2018.
I found it while searching the archives. I remember this poem, but forgot all about it. I'm really glad I found it. Brings back memories.