The Now

The little bird watched the gentleness of the river,

Moved by its benevolent melody, the bird asked:

‘Tell me, wise riverie,

What treasure manifests this benevolence?'

The river replied:

“I have flown through a great distance:

Through hills, valleys, plains and plateaus.

All the way chattering with:

Flowers, pebbles, Earth, sky,

Chirpy birdies and roarie wilds.

Sometimes, I nourished out and cherished in

Sometimes, I repressed out and perished in,

I recurrently killed myself

Parts of me torn, parts of me grown”

Saying this, she paused for a gasp.

When the bird, impatient, interrupted:

‘Are these your treasure,

Or, where you born with your benevolence?'

The river replied:

‘My origin, the purest, exceedingly nourishing,

Promising origin: I do love, but not the best.

I love the now the best:

For it is here that I have known them all:

The wildest rocks and the smoothest pebbles

Deepest pain and exceeding pleasure

The now that sees my blossoming beyond and within.

The now, I love the best:

The now that cradles pain and joy,

The now that holds fear and strength,

The now that is less of me, and full of life.’