As a river flows

I get the drift, the drift of life, 
and how unperturbed it flows 

directly and determinedly right to the very end.

No rock can bar the way or stand up to the force 

of unrelenting movements towards extermination 

of our once-upon-a-times.

Some may pause at the bank 
to feel again the wonder 

of days spent in the sun 
and bask in a re-run of what once was meaningful
but even those lucky few soon lose their desperate hold 

as the current of time overpowers feebleness 

and returns unto itself the power to decide 

each and every fate.

As a river wends its way through mountains, valleys, dales,

to finally arrive at the waiting sea
so each and every life force dances little jigs
through events and circumstances
until it’s merely vapour in in an occasional thought
soon too to disappear like a river into sea.

And there’s no river to be seen in the hungry jaws of sea

by future generations standing on the shore

and yet we’re all embroiled in life’s amazing travesty

so passionately playing at ...

being meaningful.

Would that there could be an appearance of thought forms 
to tell the “why” and “what for” 

of flowing speedily 
towards a state of being ...
completely meaningless!