Thursday, November 3rd, 2011Mature

Let my life be the prayer I cannot put to words…

            What is this river inside of me?  Thoughts catching what falls onto the surface, swirling it round and round in the eddies of contemplation.  Desire ever beneath, surging in great swells, threatening at times to spill over the boundaries of the banks, uncontainable.  But the current underneath it all, ever-flowing, rushing forward is the Purpose of the river; its soul aim is to reach the ocean.  It is there the consummation will take place and the river will at last cease its motion and be forever joined to the Source of its existence. That is the aim, that is the purpose; and that is why the river will rush through dark canyons, leap over cliffs, and storm over boulders never stopping for a moment.  That is why it flows on no matter what the scenery reflected onto its surface, no matter what debris or beauty falls adrift on its journey.  The river understand its purpose too much to let what is reflected in its surface distract its flow.  The river’s desires are too deep and reckless to allow time for things carried along to stagnate its flow.  The water surges forward never stopping, never slowing, ever deepening and growing fuller until, at last, its purpose and desire is fulfilled.  The river, at last, joins the ocean’s depths unsearchable. 

The End

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