g . by this river

Here we stand at this river, 

watching it slowly pass by, 

whilst inhaling its breath. 

Time slows to the point,

where it meets the velocity of the river’s current. 

A swirl drags a fallen leave down.

Forever, down, down, down. 

Its green coloring derives from light, weather, surrounding, 

It all creates this new shade.

All reflections are absorbed.

Mirroring drowns slowly.

Now and then a splash appears, 

and then no splash appear.

It carries all with it, stones, sand, tears.  

As we stand at this river, 

we always fail to remember why we came.

I always wonder why we came, came, came. 

Whispering, as the fog enwraps us slowly. 

The man, brian eno: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2WURHY3D4A