• Yale Bowman

On Life's Waters: A Poem



Such a gift it is, A life that flows like water. I have endured the most unforgiving rapids, I have surfed pipelines as high as mountaintops, But I have never, not ever, called it boring I have rarely been bored. As sure as the sun will set And the moon will return to the sky I will follow life's river Until I empty, at its mouth There is no willingless required, but willingness is my weather-proof raft What a gift to know that what goes up will come down And vice versa Because I have such a distaste for sameness, a distate with sameness just for the sake of it The bed of comfort will not be my cage And though I have tried to sleep there endlessly, my cushion forever rests on life's waves

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