The River Poem by Hime Hiroda

Everything seems so fast
As if I was caught in a whirlwind of action.
I never thought of it this way, you know?
Life as a never-ending flurry of activities.

Why do you think it has to be this way
Like everything’s so of-the-moment
What has become of taking it easy?
Of letting the river take you with its currents?

Fast, slow, frothy, still - the river
I think that’s the thing I missed
Where is it with its mur’mring waters
And soothing cerulean face?

That winding, serpentine flow that goes
And carves its own way- where is it?
It is gone, I think – gone with the
Narcissus flowers by the treacherous river bend.