The Twig’s Great Adventure

Sky Larson

A boy at the creek, with a curious grin,
Picked up a twig, thin as a pin.
With a flick of his wrist, he set it afloat,
Watching it spin like a tiny, brave boat.

The twig sailed away on the rippling stream,
Carried by waters, clear and serene.
It twisted and turned, through shadows and light,
On a magical journey, out of the boy’s sight.

It danced with the minnows, and raced with the breeze,
Past lily pads resting, and whispering trees.
The boy’s eyes gleamed as he watched it depart,
Imagining adventures that warmed his heart.

The twig bobbed along, past rocks smooth and rough,
Navigating currents, sometimes gentle, sometimes tough.
It tumbled through shallows, then floated with ease,
As the creek told its stories, in murmurs and wheeze.

It passed by a frog, perched on a log,
And drifted beneath the call of a dog.
The boy followed along, with steps light and quick,
Tracing the path of his wandering stick.

As the creek widened and the waters grew deep,
The twig found its way, with a delicate sweep.
It floated on, with a purpose unclear,
Yet full of the promise of journeys to steer.

The boy stood still, as the twig disappeared,
Into the unknown, where new stories were steered.
For a twig tossed in water, by a boy’s simple play,
Can travel the world, in its own special way.