Monday, January 16, 2012

River of Time

Reading through some of my old messages, I stumbled over a memory of how I was moved by Jim Croce's song, Time in a Bottle. Jim and Ingrid Croce performed on the college concert circuit, where I sat one evening, coffee cup in hand, transfixed by his story songs. His 1972 song about trying to save time has resonated across the years and gained special meaning for me when I was diagnosed with leukemia.  I love the line: "I'd save every day like a treasure..." His lyrical fantasy still haunts my dreams.

Anyone who has come face-to-face with his own mortality will tell you how precious becomes each second, of each minute, of each hour, of each day. For me, time is a river system, cataracts that propel me always forward in a current too swift to swim against. I have always been part of the river and cannot set foot upon its banks. The best I can hope for is to tread water or float along with companions in the stream until, at last, I drift into my own estuary, and the sundering sea of eternity.


River of Time

On countless cataracts it carries me.
Full rudderless, I float on currents swift,
A helpless spirit compelled to the sea,
My passage, an ancient, enduring gift.
A lifetime I must tread its mighty flow;
I cannot climb moves too fast.
What lies ahead I simply do not know,
And all behind quickly becomes my past.
There's little I can do, but daily strive
To rise, and to ride the wild churning foam;
To boldly endure until I arrive,
At my destination, my timeless home.
The river takes us all, without our thanks,
And God alone may stride upon its banks

Mick McKellar
January 2012

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