Road to River life

Counting the pebbles, standing by the moss,
Fresh water stream and the early morning gloss,
Never ending ripples; “Solace”, It said.
Then I knew, I was young and innocent,
Growing up, I ferried in this never ending stream,
Boulders did I bump; not a good feel;
Bruised my face but relished that pain,
Knew it hurts but the thrill was fun,
Love did hurt; sat down took stock and kept floating on,
Toppled in the middle spectators surround,
None to stop and none to lift,
Those shallow waters taught me a lot,
Everything out there deep seated hostility.
My begetters knew not, me ferrying out here
Still wearing smile but shattered inside
Stream sang into this river; desolate was I;
A point it reached not far from then;
If life this way, I’ll have no life;
After all this time and all this work,
I suddenly had this feeling that,
None of this is in my hand.
And if it isn’t if it isn’t, what should I do with that?
Loosing track in time, yonder I saw this old friend of mine
Saying,”thou on my mercy seat”
A union station for a wreck like me
Undocumented changes for quiet some time,
This truce with god hurts a lot,
Will endure it; with all my heart.



Michel .H. Ashton