Look, I don’t want to disappear like a river into the ocean but the only time the flow can be stopped is in the winter, when the river is frozen and cannot merge.
Some time when the river is ice ask me mistakes I have made. Ask me whether what I have done is my life. Others have come in their slow way into my thought, and some have tried to help or to hurt: ask me what difference their strongest love or hate has made. I will listen to what you say. You and I can turn and look at the silent river and wait. We know the current is there, hidden; and there are comings and goings from miles away that hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say.