Jim Susinno 3/32/98

Reflections Upon a River

One summer night, I felt alone in life
I had to sit and think, and clear my mind.
I chose a spot upon a riverbank
and sat and tried to let myself unwind.

But truth be told I didn't go to watch
the lazy river winding in its bed.
I merely stayed to listen to the sound
and navigate the river in my head.

The source extended far beyond my sight,
the past obscured by dark and sand of time,
and though I strained and pined to hold it close
I only caught a glimpse of what was mine.

A thought occurred to me, I almost cried
to think my days had fallen into nil
I searched my soul for life; I thought I'd died
but eyed a drifting leaf that kept me still.

I focused on the leaf, I watched it dance
and stop for just a moment here and there
'fore drifting toward the rock on which I sat.
Intently, with regret, I simply stared.

The leaf enthralled me, sliding to and fro
I stared until it floated straight below
It stayed and wrestled with the undertow
Then I turned my head and watched it go.

And in my saddened state I'd failed to look
toward the river's mouth, just to my left,
And catching sight of it I know I shook
and felt as if a weight rose from my chest.

The rising sun in all its glowing splendor
tore to shreds the charcoal cloak of night,
illuminated both my face and heart,
and drenched me, head to toe, in warmth and light.

While morning fog lay thick upon the bank
I barely saw my hand before my face.
Still I rose and kept my gaze fixed front.
My back toward my past, I walked away.

One cannot step into the same stream twice -
the water ever flows into the haze.
And though the past is gone - life's dearest price -
I take it with me where I go - always.