The River

Today, on the 6th of March, 2011, this blog completes two years. For all the love; for all the times that you’ve been kind enough to look at these pages and read my ramblings; for all of the shares, the few comments, and perhaps fewer subscriptions – for all of it, people, a big, big thanks!

The last few posts have been humorous, and, sadly, not my own. However, in commemoration of this occasion, I present to you a poem.

I had written this a little while back. The feeling that it invokes, however, is one that continues to haunt me: mortality. No, I am not afraid of dying – well, to be honest, I don’t much think about it. We will all, after all, die one day. But what I am afraid of, what I am scared that I will end up being, is like the river. Which one? This one.

The River

Sometimes over a wasted hill,

I’ve wondered and wondered…

Upon the course a river had taken.

On its surface and running down,

Had resulted in cracks and fissures,

And somewhere a valley or bank,

Diverging into streams and brooks,

Had lost itself upon the huge citadel,

And dried long ago.

Forgotten by Time and betraying,

The racoon who’d come visiting often,

Been succeeded by a cacti,

Who greeted all with green and red,

Thorns.

 

Sometimes over a wasted hill,

I’ve wondered and wondered…

The hill still stands in stone,

Upon which a river,

Had once taken course.

 


Your thoughts, your criticism, your feedback – all are very welcome. They help me know if what I’ve written resonates with you. Please consider leaving a comment below and telling me how this piece made you feel.

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6 Comments Add yours

  1. Samantha Bangayan says:

    A path remembered. =) For me, I don’t think much of mortality or of greatness. Life itself is more than enough.

    Like

  2. abhiqrtz says:

    Grand then, isn’t it, to find solace, and contentment. We’re all, I guess, in the quest for a similar peace.

    Like

  3. Anamika says:

    like this one bettr….symbolic, open ended, but a li’l self-aware…..u tell me…!!

    Like

    1. abhiqrtz says:

      Symbolic – obviously. It is poetry.
      Open-ended – is it?
      Self-aware – how?

      Like

  4. Anamika says:

    Well, it may be percvd as open ended if read without the intro tht u give on top, for in th poem, towards th end, you (p’haps unintentionally) merely suggest somethng (oblivion) rathr thn stright-away pointing it out….

    Self-aware, because the flow of the poem seems more planned than natural, p’haps deliberately keeping in mind ur predicament as mentioned in th intro….

    Like

    1. abhiqrtz says:

      Well, the point of giving this poem a separate post, in fact, of even writing it in the first place, is the idea expressed in the last two or three lines of that introduction. So much so, that the poem is incomplete without them. Morality, or, to be more precise, quiet, uncelebrated morality, is the premise.

      And about the flow, I really beg to differ. Once the theme does form an image, the rest of the process, at least for me, is fluid and uncontrolled. I know too well the power of the Word to attempt to control it.

      Like

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