Sunday, January 24, 2016

Ganga

So, I was sitting there, watching the river flow by fast
And thinking about my dear friend who so suddenly left this earth
And wondering, “River, where do you come from? Where are you going?”
Expecting something more profound than a geography-test type of answer
Which in a way I did get, because I started thinking of other friends
So many of them, actually – 
So beautiful, so smart, so kind (some even on facebook, actually)
And when life has been cruel, which it often has, so brave. So very brave.
It was Ardha-Kumbh, the crowds were thick, though only half as thick, I suppose.
We sang, stayed in line, made offerings, gave money
Though I would not consider taking a dip or drinking the water
Since it is holy, peaceful and pure but also dirty and polluted (and cold)
Like most places on earth, I suppose.

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