02-17-2010, 09:51 AM
Along this river
We drift, alone.
Between lips
Of jungle leaves
On a liquid tongue
Of bumbling foam.
We hang our hands
In water, and grab
An alligator,
Asking
“Where, why?”
The grinning gator
Slyly responds-
“Oh my
Please-
Ask again later”
Yes,
We have no guess
As to where we could be going
When adrift
In idleness
And without knowing.
We drift, alone.
Between lips
Of jungle leaves
On a liquid tongue
Of bumbling foam.
We hang our hands
In water, and grab
An alligator,
Asking
“Where, why?”
The grinning gator
Slyly responds-
“Oh my
Please-
Ask again later”
Yes,
We have no guess
As to where we could be going
When adrift
In idleness
And without knowing.
"To risk is to lose your footing. To avoid risk is to lose yourself"
-Soren Kierkegaard
-Soren Kierkegaard