The Mountain Stream

Tumbling down the mountainside
In wild, chaotic flow,
Then, suddenly, tranquility,
Where water lilies glow
Like stars on water dark and still,
And nothing moves the air
But remembrance of a dragonfly
Who lately wandered there.

Who knows how turbulence becomes
Such stillness down below
That something waiting for a chance
Can make a lily grow,
Or how the chaos of a storm
Turns into flakes of snow?