© January 7, 2010, Swami X
.
All in the golden afternoon
Full leisurely we glide;
For both our oars, with little skill,
By little arms are plied
While little hands make vain pretence
Our wanderings to guide
—Lewis Carroll, author of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
.
Rowing my boat
Always downstream
At times rocky
But I have always caught the Current
And gone with the River’s flow
.
Some have thrown their oars
Trusting fully in the River
But I have chosen to keep mine
For sometimes I like to steer closer
to the banks and see the wild flowers
to the seagulls flying at the shore
to choppy water when I feel like a thrill
to smooth waters when I need a rest
.
And then I saw you
Across the wide River
And suddenly all the colors of the wild flowers
Faded to grey
And all the magnificent heights of the seagulls soaring
Couldn’t pull my face away from yours
And the slap-slap of the water
Was drowned by the pitter-patter of my heart
.
You smiled at me
And when I looked into your eyes
The River suddenly disappeared
And we were standing frozen
On the Shore of Now
Holding each other
Not only with glances
But arms
.
I rowed towards you
But the Current of adversity was strong
I threw overboard any food I had
For only you could nourish me
And all I had accumulated on my journey
That I had formerly thought of value
Whose weight was now only keeping me from you
The only thing worth rowing for
.
For every two strokes forward
I was pulled one back
And although my muscles ached
And my lungs burned
I new this was my final finish
That when I got to you
All my rowing would be over
.
I waved for you to row to me
And you missed my signal
Because your head was down in your
maps and
charts and
tools of navigation
For rowing the River required one to be practical
And without the charts that had been handed down
From the experts of past
How could one hope to survive?
.
But for me survival was no longer a consideration
The only thing that mattered was getting to you
Connecting our boats
And riding the current together
.
When you finally closed your tools of safe travel
And saw me rowing towards you with all my might
You rowed a little in my direction
And now my heart had taken the oars from my muscles
Pushing full steam ahead
But when you heard the call from your party further on
You paused
And the current pulled you away from me
.
I wouldn’t let up
I shouted out to you!
I professed my love for you!
I told you I would risk capsizing
And destroying my boat
If it meant that we could ride together!
But without your effort
My heart resided back into its place
And returned the work to my muscles
Which finally exhausted
And I stopped rowing
.
As our boats drifted apart
Each in its own channel
I just stared at you
Wishing you had made the effort
For the Current of the River
Is way too strong to cross alone
.
And now the slap-slap of the water became audible
And the calls of the seagulls filled the silence
And the Shore of Now
Became the Beach of Beyond
And I was aware that my face was wet
from water splashing
and sweat pouring
and tears falling
.
Up ahead lay a Great Divider
And as your boat went to the left
And my boat to the right
I still thought it possible
That with enough effort
I could make it back to you
But I knew without you
Paddling hard towards me
We could never change the tracks we were in
And so I let that thought sink
Beyond the surface of hope
.
Rowing to you was all that mattered
And now you were gone
So I threw my oars overboard
And sat back in my boat
Acknowledging defeat
Wishing I had never seen you
For now no wild flower or seagull
Could touch me
.
And as I progressed further down the River
I became unsure
Whether you were real
Or a mirage created by a mind
Which had grown tired of rowing alone
Either way, I realized that I couldn’t hold you
And the image of you started to fade
Soon nothing but the feeling of recognition
I felt in your eyes
Remained like a fragrance
.
Maybe the lesson the River was teaching
Is that it can’t be mastered with a dream
That one has to be practical
To maneuver its length
.
And whether my boat finally arrives
At an Oasis of Splendor
Or whether it crashes into sharp rocks
Is of no importance to me
.
I wish you good travels
My distant love
Imaginary or not
You were real to me