The River Flows. . .

Written from February 26th to February 27th.

[The River Flows. . .]

The river flows. . .

The trees tower
Always reaching, striving
for the infinite goal.
Perfection: the Heavens

The birds make known nature's song
Until frightened, peace corrupted.
Then become the vicious cloud
with anger that devours sky.

The winds howl and whistle
a song all their own.
All must listen, all must feel.
The only escape is to hide away,
inside the branches, the Earth, the cave:
Home.

Still the river flows
So painfully faithful.
For I am within it.
A constant battle to stay
afloat.
I struggle for each breath.
So desperately do I hope
that I may hold my head
above waters
only long enough to see.
Long enough to hear, to feel,
to know.
Least for a moment, experience this world.
The wonder, the beauty.

To let my gaze follow upwards,
And by the intimidation of the trees,
be shown true perspective.
To close my eyes, capture the sound,
As the birds sing their masterpiece,
A symphony in perfect unity.
To spread my arms, embrace
the omniscience of the blowing wind.
It's faint whisper,
"So long. . . "

For yet, the river flows.
The moment of knowing,
of existing in creation is lost.
And I am swept away.

-R.A.J.