Inspired by Canto [3]

I have heard what the talkers were talking…the talk of the beginning and the end,But we cannot fathom either.

There was never any more omnipotence than there is now,Nor will there ever be. We are swept by a rushing river, cascading waves of millenia,Slow rippling out centuries,Spraying droplets of seconds.

Swim, fight, float,Does it matter?Waterfalls only come out of the blue.

What is it, to reach the deepest depth,To break through the surface, To reach calm seas after crashing through typhoons?

To kick against the current is no avail,To try in a futile attempt to keep the mouth at bay,There is no upstream, Nor putting the water back into the glaciers,Nor syphoning drops of blood back into cuts,Nor any shock to restart a heart, given up and swept under

What is it worth, to keep treading,To beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the unknown?

Am I satisfied?I dance, I laugh, I sing, I scream;I let tears stream down my cheeks,I let my eyes spring open every sunrise,I let my mind flood itself with feeling.

Will we even know, is the ending shrouded in heavy mist?What is it, the pause?The droplet, a mere second, when the heart ceases to beat waves against the shore?The single bead of water when the lungs freeze pouring rain into icicles?The moment when the whirlpool of the mind stops churning?When the cloud of your passing thought dissipates to clear skies?Or perhaps when your sandy footprints are swept away by the tide,When every ripple of your strokes has settled? 

What can I say but swim?Welcome is every current and wave and cascade to me, and to anyone Rolling with me in the ocean,Not a single droplet is devoid of life.I will swim, I must swim, We must carefully tread over fallen leaves, tread the rushing water.Arms growing tired, feet sore, eyes closing,What can I say but hold your breath?