the leaf in the river does not fight the current of the water it just let’s the movement take it where it will

the man in the river fights to keep his head above for constant fear of drowning even as that is the likely outcome

the fish in the river sees only movement or shiny lures with no concept of danger only driven by hunger or need

the river cares not for any of them for it is a force of nature of nature but separate traveling where the land allows

high tide or low there is always motion along the silt laden bed of equalizing pressure and mindless flowing towards elsewhere

it is in the moments of stagnation, those quiet moments that entropy falls into place as breakdowns begin on a cellular level

as dangerous as the riptides, the hidden undertows can be, these motionless times are far more deadly to all around

still, the river is uncaring if it is pool or stream or mighty seas, for it is what it is irregardless of shape or motion

i wonder if i am a river or a fish, a leaf bobbing or man drowning, the fear of stagnation or the fear of endless change

in the quiet moments between life and death, this is when the forges seem most quiet, yet the changes most severe