River Flow

By

Andrew O. Leskinen

The old man lay on the bank of the river

Watching the water as it rolled on by

No longer asking where it was going

No longer caring where, or why

He’d learned life was a journey

It was not a race to be won

For the more baggage you carried

The more likely you’ll stumble and fall

The river, it carries no baggage

It flows on and on to the sea

Over rocks and boulders and ridges

Slipping around the roots of trees      

As long as it’s left unobstructed

It will flow cold and clear and strong

Obstructed, it will stop its flow

Stagnant and cloudy will be its fate

For if a river is dammed

It will become like a man

If you hinder his way

Bracken and sluggish and old