A Life Always Flowing - Sara Keam

I have a bed yet I never sleep. I have a mouth but I never eat, I only occasionally speak to those in the right place at the right time and only then I babble on and on. I am constantly on the move, watching everything as I pass by never once double taking until my course links me back to the start. I can’t stop on this set course, like the stories I occasionally hear involving a toy in the shape of a train that a child would get at Christmas, what ever that is, building their desire track to place the toy on. Nyet, I am not a train with a course that someone can so easily make for me, and nor do I want to be perceived as something like that. My constant hunger makes me lap against the stones of my bed as I open wide for boats to cross over my churning body. The humans that live here named me Volga. Why, I will never comprehend. Although something that the humans do know and that I will agree with is that I am powerful and free, yet what most may not know is that I am gentle and bound to a path. And yet I cannot be entirely sure of this since I pass by all the humans in my haste. Occasionally some will ride with me along this track but they too will leave me. Da, they all leave me. To some, I am cold, like a prickling knife on your skin compared to the rare hot and humid summer days, stifling the choking heat and embracing them in my cold hug. To some, I am the hands that lift, hold and carry them to another place, an acquaintance of some sort as they would call me. Some see me as danger, something that one should not go near else their very world as they know will end, and to others I am a supporter for the life that goes on all around. But it doesn’t matter what they think of me. Nyet, not when they all leave me. The trees wave bye as I rush by, foaming in my attempt at escape along the edge of my bed. Kids leave me shortly after playing with me, and it’s not because of anger or spite that I took one blonde girl’s bright red toy ball with me. I just really wanted someone or something to help with the loneliness, to help fill in the void. I pass by happy families, all eating together, and realized just how truly I am alone. And then one day under the velvety black blanket of a nighttime sky I met her. A woman fair of skin wadding into the depths, blue eyes closing. I pull at her to push her towards the edge away from the strong current in me but she too fought back. And then she sank down and for once, a human, a beautiful human allowed me to fully embrace her. To carry her, lift her. It was a beautiful and touching moment, a moment when we became one, when human and river became one. Even today she is with me in spirit and we talk, no more am I lonely. Da, I am not lonely anymore.