A River Bed of Clarity

A River Bed of Clarity

 What is the point he thought, as he tossed another stone into the river? An edged anxiety trickles at his throat. His hair skewed from his late night thoughts, rest is no longer part of his appetite. He reeks of anguish and sorrow, his eyes pulled by the gravity of loneliness.

 He decides to sit upon the river bank, clasping his hands to his knees. A slight rocking of his body takes hold of him as his heart quivers. A subtle fog creeps from the woods across the way. He watches it unfold from the base of the trees, it falls to the body of water.

 He looks at it with a familiar feeling, he starts to think aloud, "Alone, like this fog, drifting to the cold banks of water, escaping the foot of darkness, finding open space so that I may drift up toward the sky and disappear. This, this is how I feel, I am sinking and hoping for something to lift me."

 He pauses the motion of his body, picks up another rock and tosses it into the river. A tear falls from his eye. He wipes it before it has a chance to reach the bottom of his cheek. He rubs his eyes and for a moment the world is out of focus.

 For a moment, he feels the world understands him, he feels blurred, rubbed from existence. His heart dwells with sadness and fills the wonders of the world with the bleak taste of despair. He brushes his hand through his hair as he looks at the rippling water from where his rock collided with the water.

 The ripples spread further and further, till all energy is dispersed and they become still. He ponders upon this moment of the ripples. "Am I that, am I these ripples, just a stone tossed from the heavens slowly fading to the world, to the waters around me, to never be recognized again but only in the brief breath of my life? If that is true, then why I do I feel I need to be more, to be recognized not only in passing, but in history. If only the history of my family. I feel as if I crashed into the earth and not the water, casting no ripples to be seen."

 His shuffled thoughts of the lonely cast dispersion's of suffering upon his mind. He stands up from the river bank and starts to walk into the water slowly, its cold, but he continues inward. Shivering, he wraps his arms around his body.

 The water reaches his waist, he closes his eyes and allows the water to take hold of his body. He floats on his back, his eyes shut, fully clothed. He releases himself to the flow of now, to the water. He takes in the brisk touch of the river, his heart pumps rapidly.

 He remains a debris of human existence as he allows the river to guide his relaxed body. Moments sail by, he gathers himself into the quiet. He begins to embrace his surroundings, his thoughts. He restricts the anxiety and focuses on the soothing sound of the water.

 An hour goes by, he rises from the frigid vein of the earth. He walks back onto the bank, takes off his jacket, smiles and says,

"I was lost in, the hysteria of my mind."
We all get tangled in our own web of chaotic thoughts. Often stretching out what isn't as terrible a problem as we think. We often forget how strong we are and what is at our feet. Sometimes, it's best to take a moment in silence and embrace what is around us.

How often do you think yourself into despair, stress, and or anxiety?
How do you gain control?

More blissful and sorrowed stories in,  A Man's traveled Heart
Coming soon, The Bleeding of Words

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