The River

Sleepy but sure of its destination

The River carries life as any living organism

Whilst being controlled by the lie of the land, it also equates control by carving itself into it

People stroll and stop by its side to breakfast and rest, dogs their eager companions

The River slows the heavy pace of people

Forcing gentle introspection as they pause to observe it

By its side they remember

Here they see the images that drove their original ambitions

Here they are stilled

The River beckons them around the next corner

Curiosity and the desire for beauty pulls them ever downstream

Those that sit by its side fill their eyes with changing colours, sound and movement

A bird

A fish

A kayaker sends the wild things darting for cover and safety

Soon the children come out with their parents boisterous and sharp

The single and aged slink back to the safety of the street cafes with their magazines and books, keen to intellectualise

The City Clock calls the Village to action

The River continues oblivious

It cares not

It ignores all

A slow meandering slug carving itself into granite and rock

It rises as an awakening god only to remind the people they are not in control of all things.

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