Across the River
I stand on the bank on the other side
And look back to where I started
Before I crossed the raging currents
I feel a great sense of relief
The flailing in the water,
The threat of water closing above my head
The water pushing me further and further away
That’s all behind me now
It feels silly to have worried about drowning, now
I am on the bank
All is solved and well and fine
I didn’t get fished out of the water a corpse
I’ve crossed every river I’ve faced
Yet
When the relief fades
Fear fills the void
I remember when the water was shallow
Would come up to my knees now
And my chest back then
It was only wading
And when I got tired
I’d be plucked out of the water,
Clothes dripping onto my savior,
And carried across.
The water only got deeper,
More violent
Roaring in my ears
And I had to learn to tread
Then swim
I was too heavy to be carried across anymore
People stand at the sidelines when I cross now
At the starting bank and at the end
They cheer me on but
I don’t want to be cheered on
I want a lifejacket, a lifesaver, a lifeguard
Why won’t anyone come into the water with me?
A second voice asks,
Why can’t their encouragement be enough?
Why would you ask them to drown with you?
The fear pulses in my chest
Moves through my arteries and veins like vicious, burning blood
Not for the rivers I have crossed
But for the rivers I may yet drown in
They have only gotten deeper,
Some say this is the deepest, most violent they can get
But I’ve been told that many times
In the moment,
When the currents come above my head
When panic is the only thing forcing my muscles to move
When my throat fills with acrid water
I think this is the end
But I pull myself onto that gasping bank
And find myself as foolish as ever,
And more tired than I have ever been.