THE MOST BEAUTIFUL POEM EVER WRITTEN

The River of Life has no judgments.
The River flows with no concept of good and bad – right and wrong.
The fields and dreams of men may be nourished by the River of Life, or flooded and covered with silt, and the River just flows.
Men may catch fish and live on the River of Life, or they may founder in a storm and drown, and the River just flows.

The River of Life is timeless.
It is not unchanging, but it is timeless, and it changes in its own time.

The River of Life knows no obstacles.
The River can cut through solid rock – in its own time.

The River of Life is not powerful – and it is not weak.
The River of Life is not gentle – and it is not strong or rough.
The River of Life is not deep or shallow.
The River of Life is not nourishing or punishing.
The River of Life is simply the River of Life.
The River of Life just IS. There is no more to it.

The River of Life has no meaning, no good, no bad, no better, no worse, no love, no hate, no fear, no anger, no joy.
The River of Life has no judgment, no expectation.
The River of Life just IS.

There is nothing to do.
There is nothing to say.
There is nothing to think.
There is nothing to feel.
The River just flows.

The River is the source of all nourishment – the source of all obstacles.
The River is the source of all life – the source of all death.
The River is the source of all joy – and the source of all sorrow.
Yet the River has no joy – and the River has no sorrow.
The River is just the River.

One can flow harmoniously with the River – or one can struggle fearfully against the River – and the River just flows.
One can accept the River – or one can deny the River – and the River just flows.
One can worship the River of Life – or one can curse the River of Life – and the River just flows.

There is nothing to do – and the River flows.
There is nothing to say – and the River flows.
There is nothing to think – and the River flows.
There is nothing to feel – and the River flows.
The River flows – and all else is our drama.
The River flows – and all else is our invention.

I choose to flow with the River of Life.

Time, an Untamed Beast
by Jonathan Lockwood Huie

Time, an untamed beast,
awaits its funeral feast.
I choose inner peace.