River...Flowing... Poem by RIC BASTASA

the river flows
it is not the way
the rocks want it,

the clouds float
perhaps the air carries
them but they choose
when to disappear

you have no control
for what all these natural
occurrences

everyday you try to
control yourself opting
to do what could have
been right

and then you go astray
and run towards those
mountains trying to figure
out why

and these you take upon
yourself: nature does it
best, without much fuss.