Analysis of River

Like currents of a stream time runs, consistent,
Seeping through our fingers, seizeless,
And runs to the places time past abides,
Where it exists, forever lost to sight and touch,
In the land that no one travels.
But moments never reach that distant place,
Droplets of the mighty current stay behind,
Like welcomed stains they live among us,
Our hearts and minds they moisten,
Dotting us with memories.
These droplets, captured treasures,
Of a thing that's in its resting place,
Are in the stream we wade in,
Worth more than gold and silver,
Because these droplets which we capture,
Are what make this time worth living.