The Stream Of Life - Original Poem
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When I was little I would craft little boats from twigs and leaves and let them sail down any little stream I was at. My little creations would follow the twists and turns down the stream, sometimes bumping into rocks or needing help if it took a wrong turn and got trapped. They never lasted that long. Probably due to me making them with the pieces of nature I found lying around and that I was a single digit age.
But if you think about it, it's just like life.
We are all floating down it in one direction. There are rocks and whirlpools and waterfalls. Our ability to cope is measured in the quality of our craft. Some of us can endure after crashing into numerous rocks, others seem to fall apart and sink with but the slightest bump.
But even the best of us get pushed into a corner where we need help getting out of.
The ancient philosopher Heraclitus once said "No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man."
Time is always flowing, and we are always changing. You can never travel back upstream so make the best ship you can and enjoy the ride.
We will all meet once we reach the ocean.
The Stream Of Life By @getonthetrain
And placed it on the sparkling tide,
As it glided swift and sure,
My heart was touched with childish pride.
In a joyful dance with the breeze;
And glittered in the gorgeous sun
That smiled through wave reflected trees.
That sprouted from the shore on either hand;
In restless search of fairer waters,
Though laden with its freight of sand.
As rapidly it skimmed the wave;
Sometimes a rock would break its force-
It heeded not the chance it gave.
As if the flowers a magnet bore;
Then by scornful zephyrs swayed
It launched into the stream once more.
But one short plunge and it was sank.
Darkness descended upon my soul,
While I stopped and sat upon the opposite bank.
And compared it to years of strife
One moment bright, next dark,
That is just like our life.
Eager on the stream of hope;
There is not a rock, however dread,
Which it would not dare to cope.
Spread out on either shore,
And quickly looks their beauty through,
Before hurrying on for more.
Life’s ship may be involved awhile,
But soon it sets its sails arrayed,
It shoots away where the suns rays smile.
Not thinking about the waterfalls that wait;
Its destiny is trusted to the tides –
The tides are guardians of its fate.
Can suddenly stop and hold its breath;
And listening to the Siren’s song,
She drags it helpless down to Death.
I used to race boats when I was a lil kid as well! Good memories. :) Also great poem! I enjoyed reading it.
hey thanks for the comment @apolymask - I see you have been recruiting tons of people to steemit!
You're welcome. :) I dunno about "tons" But I definitely am bringing "some" over. :)
A personal and beautifully crafted piece of artwork from you. You're such a gifted individual, thanks for creating and sharing this with us... :)
You are so welcome @ezzy, and thank you for the wonderful words. :D
I enjoyed very much your story of little handmade boats, it brought back pleasant childhood memories for me.
Wonderful poem, that last verse really hits home.
Thank you so much @opheliafu. Playing in the streams is quite a fun time and I hope to do it with my children someday :)
A very thoughtful and evocative poem, thank you friend. Some of my boyhood memories are echoed here... 😄😇😄
![@creatr](https://steemitimages.com/0x0/https://i.imgsafe.org/b68e74b386.gif)
Thank you for the kind words @creatr :D
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