The Stream of Life

Bobbing along the stream

Sometimes fighting

Other times alighting

For a longer look

Checking out scenery

But no real choices

Except to go with the flow

I go where I need to go

Can only slow

The inevitable

As I start at the beginning

I must end at the end

That’s the way it really is

Life is like a stream

Winding its lonely way

Always just passing through

Never sitting still

Ripples speak to movement

Movement is my destiny

One day, I will reach the Sea

And that, my friends

Will be the end of me.

 

Tagged: Aging, dreaming, Poetry