The River

I began

In the most humble way

As a tiny stream

Excitedly gurgling

Bursting forth

From Mother Earth

In a spring

Cascading down the rocks

Into a pool

Cold, clean and pure.

I was excited to explore

And learn about the world

My surroundings

I eagerly left my birth pond

Traveling through small rivulets

Into a wooded glade

Where the heat of the sun

Remained unknown.

In time I grew

Now a fast moving brook

I loved the rapids

The excitement

Of churning waters

The periods of restful eddies

Continuing to lunge forward

Headstrong and confident

Downstream.

Other streams joined me

I was mightily enriched

By their presence

By their contributions

That kept me from stagnating

In rotten pools

Their love, their friendship

Kept me alive.

But all good things must end

And all those bridges

That I passed beneath

Never to see them again

Regretting the paths

I never explored

And never experienced

The ashes of those wooden footpaths

Only muddied my waters.

After much time

I became large and serene

Slow moving

But ever continuing forward

Steady and productive

But in the process

Forgetting my purpose

Losing my identity.

And now, at the end,

There’s a cloud ahead

A thunderous roaring

That frightens me

I can’t see

Beyond the rising mists

Is this the end?

How can I be sure

That an ocean exists?

If none have ever returned

To testify?

To witness?

Although I struggle against it

I know that passing over

Is inevitable

With steeled nerves

I say my goodbyes

As I tear up with emotion

The mists overtake my sight

And I fall blindly

Into the dark new world

And join the endless ocean

With all those who have gone before

The loved ones I have cherished

Safely gathered in

The rhythmic waves comfort me

And lull me into the restful sleep

Of deep peace and tranquility.