Monday, November 16, 2015

The River # 5...
There is a small tree that was uprooted by the rain infused river days ago. A young tree from the riverbank somewhere upstream from my view on the bench. It lies on top of the big boulder no longer being fed by the earth or nourished by the waters of the river. Its life force ebbing with roots exposed to the dry cold air. It is not alone today in it's ending.
Our world has once again been uprooted and tossed in the harsh waters of the flow of life. Death and destruction are the conversation of the day. Everyone wants to alter the river of their world and save all the trees on the riverbanks.
The river flows on oblivious to the dying young tree because that is what rivers do. Other trees continue to thrive on the banks of the river, nourished by the flow of the water busy in their growth and unable to assist the young tree because trees have voices but not arms.
I listen to the trees and the waters and even though we don't have a language with an alphabet we share a life force.
I am reminded of my bigger world here and all the peoples of the world where we might not share a language but we share the force of life. We too sit by our riverbanks with the flow of life going by us, sometimes harsh, sometimes peaceful. We can't alter the flow so all we do is watch and wonder.
I sit here often enough to know that the river will again flow peacefully and I am far enough away to survive the harshness of it's natural rhythms.
Today I appreciate it all. The river, the sounds of the wind, water and the trees and I know that it will all go on after me, throughout time. The water will rise once again and take the young tree further down the river and all the other trees will continue to grow with life.
Living and dying is like that because that's the way it is...

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