Some Little Thoughts

As soon as the river entered the sea, it ceased to be:
It was gone, swallowed by the larger mass;
Only small eddies remained, to swirl and mix with the alien sea;
And, even these currents were only there for a brief stay.
As a bird may come to call, it never dallies long,
The feathery life wishes only to linger, briefly, and to sing its short, sweet song:
The aria of the day. 

The river, before it met its end, played round the trees.
From brook to stream, it grew and grew, and fishes made it home.
Then, too proud river leapt as though to please
The sea, which beckoned as a mother offers up her teat,
So the sea enticed the innocence of the forest floor
To come to embrace it, more, and more, and more:
Then, there was no retreat. 

Take me back to that river, amid the forest floor.
Take me where cool breezes play;
Let me smell the sweetness: This I implore.
Let me, on the river bank, hear its melodies;
Take me from the sea’s angry roar;
Let me be enraptured, wrapped in the fern at nature’s door:
To sleep in love: Ah! The symphonic rhapsodies. 

Too late: One dreams of those things long gone.
For the river, once past, never again returns,
Nor does it care to look back to hear the fading strains of a lingering song.
Nature gives its gifts to living things, to all,
But man, incapable of remembering beyond a single hour
Forgets the river, he, his mien dour,
Destroys his own: He does not heed the call. 

Too late: The dream has faded. It is no mystery.
The sounds and shapes cut by the waters of the river,
Left only for the annals of history.
Purity has gone and, in its place,
Pollution abounds. For only man destroys what he will,
Only man loves to kill:
The damnable race.