I don't want to be presentable,

I want to flow like a river,
bend around rocks,
struggle to get past broken logs in my path,
try to run up banks at a bend then glide back down hill,
carry things;
pebbles, dry leaves, sticks, seeds, lost items –
abandoned and missed alike..
find them new homes.
fall down cliffs,
form misty specks of upside down rain that refract light when I explode at the bottom.
Run past forests, towns and deserts, adapt and be adapted to.
get to the ocean and just pour myself into – something larger than myself...
a library of river stories,
a place of rest.