Cleansing

The forest stream grumbles as the big rock Makes it swerve sharply to the right But is relieved that around the bend It can flow freely again. It swirls; over the sand bed the stream made Where I lie in total stupor The stream gurgles happily over the little stones and rocks That cradles me like a foetus in its womb. I lie, floating, watching my toes peeking out of the water And my nose, like a periscope This bloated corpulence slapped Gently by the ripples of the water.

The sun is clouded out for the moment I close my eyes in bliss All I hear are the chuckle of the stream And the chirping of the Wagtail.

It was the time of goodbyes to the past And all the pain is taken away by the stream. I realize I will never again write poems On love and the pain of losing it Because the current has taken all that away As little fish nibble at my heart Cleansing it of pus and blood.

The sun turns up again I turn over, and holding breath Look at the pebbles beneath. Though the water is clear The river bed is blurred I am unable to see But I will, I will I will see it sharply, clearly, one day.