The Fork

This poem called The Fork was written as I sat by the nagahela (i can't spell it) river in North Carolina. The river had many boats floating along it. Some places were smooth and quiet..and others had very fast rapids. I hope you like it.

The Fork

Gliding slowly down the quiet water,
Moving along with the current of life
Settled calmly in the open air
Green leaves and flowers slide silently by
Birds present a concert of song
Never-ending along the way

Paddle still, used only to gently guide the way
Past rocks and trees, providing power
When the current is weak and waves small
Providing direction when unbidden movements arrive,
Strong currents dictate the way and
Waves push toward danger and uncertainty

River runs clear when the fork appears
View hidden by bends and trees
Left or right---decision looms
Each path a different journey, both unseen, unknown
Random choice or deliberate action
Push the bow and journey on

The way may be smooth, wide paths free of rocks and waves
Tree-lined with still waters, punctuated by the shouts
Of song birds, cracks of slight feet
On dry branches and long dead leaves
Time made for reflection and thought
Finding the center and seeing the way floating along

The way may be rough, narrow and rock filled
Waves reach high with frothy force, hiding dangers below
The beating of water on the sides drown out the
Songs of forest, the strong heartbeat pounding
Darting sights side to side, discerning the danger
Seeking safety and peace amidst the rapids

We seek to take the easy fork, avoid the pain
Yet amidst the pain is growth, strength reborn
along the rapids, there is wisdom, experience acquired
confidence and empathy renewed and nurtured
even as the calm path renews and refreshes
focuses and restores, the rapids of life breeds empathy

seek both in the path of life
the rough and the smooth, the easy and the hard
for in the full journey is the whole of life’s experiences