~
2009-07-31 15:31:05 UTC
***
The River Between
It was a beautiful thing at first,
to see the river running,
Between the two,
Who were holding hands.
They stepped back in surprise,
At the cool water,
Running over their feet.
They let go their hands,
To explore the river curiously,
Not knowing,
That they will not be able,
To grab hold again.
The current grew stronger,
One began to panic,
Splashing frantically.
While the other,
Slowly stepped back,
Shocked and unsure.
They searched for each other’s hands
But in the gathering darkness ,
All they found were the smooth cold stones,
In the riverbed.
Finally the two stepped back onto dry land,
And stared at each other in dismay.
For a long while they stared,
Wounded and grieving,
Until one found a large flat leaf,
And a stick of mud.
wrote words of Love,
And let the wind carry them to the other side.
The other followed suit,
And back and forth they wrote;
slowly healing.
The river is still roaring,
And is too strong to cross.
But someday,
The waters will subside.
And the two can join hands once more,
Turn to the east,
And see the dawn of a new day.
A new day,
in the greatest story of all.
***
This story represents me, actually, and MY best friend.