The Journey of Life

The Journey of Life(Carl Brooks) The Journey of Life
By
Carl Brooks

A sparkle of life, a droplet of water; elixir to all.
Without which, all is lost.
It falls to earth in the bold necessity of rain.
It glides, wind-blown, tumbling, as vain,
Beautifully adorned snow.

Gathering on a hillside and blending with
The essence of deeply rich soil.
I am born in an instant of sheer ecstasy as earth
And rain merge; an inseparable unity.

As an infant shines, I reflect my father, the Heavens,
In an innocent pool of glowing half-substance.
A likeness indeed. My father bids,
"Grow and make your way."

I swell with harnessed energy.
My fingers grasp at what is beyond reach.
At last, I find an outlet.
Now moving, as destiny beckons.

A trickle now, searching my way, looking for what?
I grow with more and more essence, adding strength.
Faster… moving ahead...
Speed… get to where?
Rushing down, gushing, flowing.
All is passing so rapidly.
Nothing is clear... cannot pause... must hurry.

I find myself out of control.
Attempts to guide my flow is futile.
I touch the wonderfully new and exciting boundaries
Of extremes on either side.
Exploring... searching... testing… tasting.

Far behind, perhaps, another is born.
Ahead... what awaits?
I long to slow now, to glide with ease
Over the rocks in my path.
I cannot, for in my haste there has been no time to learn.
Control is impossible, return cannot be,
The flow is forever ahead.
Some have stopped along the way and pondered too long.
They soon grew stagnant and bitter.

I look back and can only fleetingly remember.
I strain to see ahead, around the next bend.
Nothing is clear, ever rushing forward.
Beside me now, another stream,
Beautifully pure and radiant.
I long to feel the mingling of her cool, velvet-soft current,
So splendid.... now we are one.

More forceful now in our search for... what?
Our fullness overflows
And sends smaller streams in still another search,
And another.
Older now, calm, while concealing a rage unyielding.
Reaching a pentacle of what must be the end.

A shining glare of the heavens reflected,
Blinded by its brilliance, I cannot see.
Then, we are freed into a vast serenity;
A mingling of all that is... and was... and will be.
The sea; the womb of a loving mother.
The heavens; a father, vast and undefined.