The babbling brook, turns into a stream of conscious thought.
It bends, at ninety degrees; only to double back after a few hundred steps.
I reach in, feeling my way through; the icy water sloshing in my boots.
I pull out a stone.
Shaking my wrist a few times to sling off the excess water, I put the rock up to the light.
I see entire galaxies within.
Millions of stars, eons of experimentation in astrophysics held within.
Drying the smooth surface reveals even more decadent secrets – the colors!
Hues of emerald, alabaster, and deep rust; a sign of the minerals deposited sometime between the time of discovery, and when our ancestors first departed the primordial soup.
I ask the river, where do you go from here?
It always replies, no matter what the question.
The answers inevitably bubbling up to the surface.