The River

The vista dips down to the churning river

The currents bubble flow and swirl

The whirlpools drift and then mingle

The flow that leads us to the sea.


Up the vista swoops the valley

Across the flow there lies a church

The spire needling, straight aloft

The patterned landscape rises up


Distant buildings on distant banksides

Visible just through the morning haze

Those lights that glimmer in the daybreak

Swirling through that Autumnal glow


Through that mist we drag ourselves

Through those currents and that haze

Through the daybreaks and the evenings

Travelling through life’s eternal maze


Towards that destination

The one the same for all

The lights they seem ever nearer

The lights they seem to slip away.




There is no silence in the vista

There is no peace within those days

The journey’s path makes no difference

In the end we’ll find our graves

Those currents drag you under

Those mists envelope your soul

Why the struggle ever onwards

Why do we burrow as a mole?


Blind and velvet in those dingles

Of our graves so fresh and cold

The trial of strength of every day-break

That current comes and flows and mingles




So that current takes us on its journey

Through that landscape and its joys

Through those eddies and those backwaters

To the everflowing sea.






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