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 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!

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