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One
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One with the River
Poem by Guthema Roba
The river that snores The river that moans. The river that roars… Every sound of its roar is my breath. Its rise and its fall is a sign of life In the depth of my bone It is the color of my curiosity. My courage and my cowardice. Every bit of its flow is my hope, my strength Tears of my bliss, whisper of my love. Magic
of creativity. My singing age. Every part of its rise And every minute of its silence Is my song that’s not sang yet. My denied freedom, my hushed liberty. Every
speechless stone is my deep sleep. Their every twinkle, their every stare, Their every frown, their every smile Their every caress is my wakefullness. Their divine warmth is my longing for newness. I’m one with the woods Every single wood is the renewal of my physical body The song of the beasts in the wood is my heartbeat, The shade of every single tree is my serenity I’m one with a meadow, with the moors Every single blade of leaves is my flesh under my skin Every single grass is my blood cell. The flowers in the grass are laugher and sorrow in my heart. Every road that crosses the meadow Is part of me that sings with light. My
presence. The awareness of the Now His bellowing bulls, his bleating sheep His frolicking horses and kicking mules Are the age of innocence. The cord between a cow and the calf And the milk in between is immortal tenderness Of my mother. The serene thatched, lonely houses Are my purple moments when I meet the formless, the ageless. The nameless I’m one with the winds. Every sound of its whistle Is the poem I am composing. Every groan of its might is The message in this poem And every sigh of its fury is my suppressed feelings. I’m one with the earth. Her hills and her gorges are my silent tongue. Every speck of her dust is my beautiful death My buried intensities. My spent hours, my evenings. Light enters me through your smile And it departs from me though your sobs And it returns to me again through your silence Through everyone of you, I learn how to live And through everyone of you I practice
the art of dying. |
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