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Photo by Catherine Von Holt, Nepal Semester.

River Stones

River Stones

Sitting softly by the river
It’s not the cold that makes me shiver
But the silence of stones below the surface
Silent and stoic forevermore.

If you look, you will see them
If you wave, you can even greet them
Not prisoners, but willing subjects
Of the river’s suffocating roar.

They once were free
Like you and me
With all the days ahead to live for,
But when you’re worn away
Little by little,
Weaker grows the voice that implores,

Don’t give in to the siren’s call!
Of the river’s current, fast and slick
Wake up! Wake up!
Before the sinister whisper,
“I’ve got time,”
Pulls its fatal trick.

For time is the staff, the sword, the shield,
That the river uses to make you yield
Your head will go under
If you stay
So don’t give in – break away!

For ease leads on to deadly ease.
Before you know it,
They’ve worn you smooth,
Smooth as every other stone,

Smooth as the river would damn well please.