Moon River

the harp set sail
the boy's heart raced
the river was low
but it would meet the sea
at the path where he used to fish
and there would be the waves he was promised
each one a revelation
and the first whirls of the river
played the first tune on the harp

barely audible
the boy listened
everything could be divined from here on in
there were two voices, the coarser one spoke of philosophy
consciousness and madness
but the softer one, gradually prevailed
and the harp played along to its wisdom
“your way will be illumined by myriad petals
and in listening to the swish of the sea
you will gain knowledge of the petals
and from whence they spring
the art is in listening
not in speaking
so listen, and watch, with all of your heart”

© Miwsig