River

It all begins up in the mountains as one gigantic mass of ice. An epic journey spanning an aeon begins with one drop.

Soon, there’s a trickle, abandoning inertia, favoring movement over stillness.

Movement.

A river goes through a lot.

It lets itself go.

You may think it doesn’t know where it’s going. But it’s running, onward flowing, never looking back, never turning back, never stopping. It picks up a little something from everything it touches.

Because a river knows that everything matters.

A river welcomes other streams. That’s right, it never turns them away, because that is how it grows. And that’s how it flows, gushing down mountains, roaring, crashing, bending, breaking, and falling in its forward-rushing dance.

A river is constant, It stays the course. And its constancy pays off because, in due time, it will cut through the hardest rock. It will slice into the oldest mountain, and it will carve a path for itself.

All in due time.

Onward flowing, only slowing its mad advance when it hits the plains.

A river goes through a lot.

And no matter how many times it crashes and bends and breaks and falls, it does not cease in its flow.

A river just lets itself go.

There are no tears in the life of a river. And that’s by definition.

There is no place for regrets, for second tries, for going back. And that’s by definition.

And all that hard work makes a river thirsty. That’s right, rivers get thirsty too. But it’s a thirst that can only be quenched by something bigger, deeper, wider, something more powerful, more magnificent; something it can consume and be consumed by, at the same time.

And that… is also by definition.

Despite all the crashing, bending, breaking,and falling, a river never stops.

Onward flowing, only slowing down for a meaningful exchange with everything it passes over, crashes into, meanders around, and ultimately drains.

A river nourishes and enriches. And if it takes anything, it does so only that it may give.

Yes, a river gives. That’s how it lives.

And it never stops.

A river moves things, moves people even as it moves itself. It moves ideas, it moves minds.

But there will always be one thing a river can never do.

There is always one thing a river will never do.

A river cannot and will not stop.

And that is by definition.

Now, don’t ever think a river doesn’t know where it’s headed.

It knows exactly where it’s going, and it knows exactly how to get there, because everything that moves is destined for something bigger, deeper, wider, something more powerful, more magnificent.

And that is also in the nature of things that move.

So, are you prepared to move?

Are you ready to meet the ocean that you really are?

Get moving.

Post Categories: Poetry
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