Water

Is there anything more beautiful
than form devoid of form?
What twists, turns, bends,
to objects short and long.
Is that a hurdle,
Is that a gain,
is what a rock might say.
To formless it means nothing
anything more than a way.
It gurgles, bubbles, lashes,
trickles, swaying away.
From one sight it comes to you,
From other it goes away.