It´s a while since I posted here. This is an old post I came across, a writing prompt I did a long time ago. I´ve been reading it again and again trying to understand that state of mind I was in when I wrote it. I cannot envision the turmoil. I so wish I had dated it. Just to know. Life moves on. I´m a tranquil stream right now.
The River
Sometimes I rage, at others I'm calm and trickle, translucent
or transparent, fine like ice. When I'm angry I destroy. Lives, land, nature,
the wildlife I sustain. I erupt, spill and tear along not caring about the destruction
or thinking about the aftermath. Unstoppable, churned up, dark. I carry along
anyone and anything in my path then just dump it or them at will.
Eventually peace returns, a calmness that's inexplicable,
unexplainable. An inner peace. A huge calm. Life returns to my shores, I quench
the thirst of many. My thirst is slated too. I tumble and gurgle and burble
along once again.
Until, the next storm. Each one a little less torrid, less
violent. Am I controlling the storms, are they controlling me? How many, how
much energy, emotion must be spent each and every time. I feel the rubble rolling, the
drops gather into streams, the streams pour into me and if they are within me,
part of
me they must come out. Explode. Break out of the restraints. Burst my
banks and yet again run amuck, decimate. Harm.
I'm tired now. Drained. Ancient. I've wandered, meandered
since the beginning. Never stayed on the path, always pushed the boundaries.
Always. I find I like these moments of calm more and more. Is this what
contentment is? A little down time. An inner peace. Can I stay like this, can
this tranquil state remain. What needs to happen to attain, retain where I am
right now.
