Poem on Perseverance

Perseverance is a small pebble.
    Out of ancient rock it comes,
it follows the great rivers, rolls down
the rocky slopes of mountains and of time.
               It refuses to die, to dissolve, defying weather,
the waves of water, the whips of western winds.
                            It rolls onwards along the fast forest
                 streams to an ocean, a vast lake it has
                                              not known before.
   It fears nothing from the men of mines and mills,
                          and is content with it's condition.
        Longsuffering, it endures the thunder, lightning,
and hard hail from the heavens. It gets through the rapids
with more than ease, the water nor the rocks
can harm it, can kill it.
It is rewarded for it's quest with
                                     a home.
   Among the other pebbles who have made the
               journey, it sits joyously upon the beach,
                     basking in the sun of day and calmly
                                               resting in the moon of night.
The children light upon the beach, joining the pebbles in festivities.
                                    Where did these come from? How did they get here?
     One from the mountain, one from the desert, one from the plain,
                                                 one from the field, one from the isles.
                                                 Down the rivers, across the waves.
                                             Perseverance is a small pebble.