Myself

A River Far Away and Long Ago

The river

of my childhood,

that tumbled 

down a passage of rocks

and cut-work ferns,

came here and there

to the swirl

and slowdown

of a pool 

and I saw myself...

oh, clearly...

as I knelt at one... 

then I saw myself

as if carried away,

as the river moved on

Where have I gone?

Since then

I have looked and looked

 for myself,

not sure

who I am, or where,

or, more importantly, why.

It's okay...

I have had a wonderful life.

Still, I ponder

where that other is...

where I landed,

what I thought, what I did,

what small or even maybe meaningful deeds

I might have accomplished

somewhere

among strangers,

coming to them

as only a river can...

touching every life it meets...

that endlessly kind, that enduring.

~Mary Oliver~