For every misstep that primes an obdurate
chalkline bent on rivet and stone, there is
a river; for every grey moon standing right
there, right there, there is a brook; for
every bard and every mistimed word that inks
the barren page, there is a stream, and it flows.
Gathering just-a-bit-o moss 
This goes very well with the Yin-Yang philosophy and the flow of Chi…
I was (more likely) riffing on Tagore’s commentary on the Upanishad: the river and its tributaries flowing towards the sea and the shores correcting each course. Thanks for pointing out the congruence with Chi: a reminder for me to familiarize myself more with the topic đŸ™‚