The River

The veil of red dust settled after the group of lynchers rode off. I shivered. I could see a man’s limp body still swinging back and forth from the gnarled ugly branches of the old hanging tree. How I hate this part of my life, but I don’t really have a choice.

I try to look away but that’s not an easy thing to do when you’re as exposed as I am. The rains filled me up to twice my size so there was no hiding this time. I keep flowing and gushing as fast as I can, hoping to remove myself from the sight, but the faster I leave the faster I arrive to that very spot.

You see, I’m a river. As long as I have water I’ll never stop flowing.

I was born up on a mountain top, thousands of centuries ago, between the crevices of two ancient twin bouldersand I still follow the same path down to the open sea. I start off a trickle but my soul goes through many changes. I’m sometimes deep and sometimes wide. I’m as young as I am old. I’ve seen so many births that I lost count. I’ve baptized thousands of men, including some very prominent ones.

My shores have seen evolutions and revolutions. I could write books that would never end. From stone age to ice age to bronze age and iron age. Villages that become towns that become megalopolises. Warsand weddings. Woodlands, farmland, churches, temples, factories, country roads and freeways. Floods and droughts.

I am the vein of this very planet and a witness to history.

I can drown flames and wear down mountains. I proudly protect the great and the small without prejudice. That is what I am here for. To nourish and provide.

I am life. It is what I am and always will be.

I am river.