As I cross the River of Life
The riverbank itself is portentous Of the path ahead. The squelchy, soggy soil Sucks in my feet like a cavernous mouth Of a carnivorous creature. I am half – willing to be sucked in.
It can hardly be called a river.
Meandering listlessly through this barren land It is more like a space between two high banks Flat, with few mounds of debris and sand Forlorn, looking woebegone Like refugees weary, resting their limbs.
Ribbons of water run through this space Shallow, scarcely to wet your toes. I look around for signs of life – At the farther side, I spot a bird.
Life! Life! Another one! I find meaning for mine.
Gingerly, I test the water with my toes. Lukewarm, indifferent, It hardly cares who I am. Beneath the fluid, I detect stones, Slimy, slippery, smiling wryly. I am careful. Stepping on each, scrubbing the slime Gripping, putting weight onto the foot, I lift the other to step on the next.
The current is stronger now. The potholes are deeper now. I stumble, I sway, I stagger Panicky, frantic, I look around wildly - Whirlpools swirl, Waters rise – The vulture is nearer now- He looks up at me with a benign smile Feeding on the carcass of a man.
Beyond, the eyes of the riverbank glitter In the cruel, shade-less sun.