Cross Rivers Poem by gershon hepner

Cross rivers on a log and clutch
wet leaves before you fall.
The story of our lives is much
like that as we recall
events that happened as we streamed
with consciousness to grab
some moments of relief and seemed,
before we paid the tab,
to have no cares while floating on
the river, till we crossed
the side to which the past had gone,
and learned of time we'd lost.



Peter Brook writes in 'Threads of Time':

An autobiography is like the life that furnishes its raw material. Both have to come to an end. But while life is just like crossing a river on a log - clutching a leaf, never knowing when one is going to fall - in a book one can choose the right moment to stop.'


9/3/98