The River

There is a place where the river slows and you can rest from its flow, a place of quiet retreat, a place to reflect upon yourself and where your journey will lead.

Today I sat on the boat in Portsmouth Bay and watched the river flow by. The amazing strength of its tremendous tidal flow when rushing back to the sea is awesome indeed. At times it would seem that the boat could be enveloped in its current and swept away. Then in another instant a quiet pause, and stillness would bring a welcome time of flat water, a repose before refilling it self and beginning the journey all over again. It is as if the universe were breathing in rhythm with the planet and the waters were its blood flow.

I have felt this rhythm many times before in the power of the purple mountain majesty of the West Coast or in the serene silence of a desert morning, and in the wind blown plains of the Midwest. The face of god is imprinted on all these facets and formations making them and us most magical.

How fortunate we are to be apart of such magnificence and how grateful we should be to live in its reflections. If we could but sit back and breathe in its energy we could fly to the stars and swim in its cosmic ocean where time ceases to exist and eternity reigns supreme.

Tonight I will behold the magic of another full moon over the harbor and howl at its beauty. I already bristle at the awesomeness of the spectacle and how wondrous this ritual can be. I will think to myself how powerful the cosmos is but also just how fragile it and we can be.

I am at peace ...