The gray dreariness of a long rainy day
Is where I find my Life’s Namaste.
As I approach the River, my Totem Heron awaits
And says, “Look around and forget all your mistakes.
There's none to see your failures; none to see your successes.
It's just you and your board and your Lover’s caresses.
And though you have 1,000 surfs or 1,000 swims,
You are still but a slave to Her weakest of whims.”
So I bring all my Life's pains & all its desires
And lay them on the River’s holy pyre.
And by her fire, I am saturated.
And the voices of self-doubt at last are sedated.
In those silent hours, I finally find my surf,
And sing songs of thanksgiving for my Riparian Rebirth.
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