| Roll On, Roll Back The river is overflowing with thoughts and feelings. It creeps around the bends-- unsure, hesitant. What should it do to stop the endless flooding? It can't comprehend why the trees are placed just so, why the rocks block its path, why it is worth the effort to keep moving. Should it become still-- a dead stream? Should it freeze over as if it was winter? Isn't it odd to watch a river cry when normally it saves its water for itself? Isn't it strange to see a river crumble into a dry pile of dirt? No one stands by it anymore, though many have crossed its path-- it is only a lonely river traveling in its own corner of the world. |
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