The inertia of life itself
is moving us forward.
Clocks are always ticking,
days pushing towards night,
even in the calm of sleep,
we flow, onward.

Rivers of time are cutting
deep ravines in bone.
Debrees of inner strife
are clogging arteries,
each breath we take,
is leading towards the last.

And yet oceans of light
guide us,
moss beneath our feet
carpet our journey through dark forests.
Our children grow, wild flowers
budding at the waters edge.

We are all surging, swirling,
cascading eternal through life.
No dam can hold us back,
no obstruction able to hinder
our sacred course.

Those who fight the current,
drown quickly, hang on snags,
are pulled under prematurely,
never to realize the fruition,
of this wonderous odyssey.

To carve jagged rock,
to smooth the face
of the belligerent stone,
we are all swept across.
To ease the way for those springs,
that well up in our wake.