Angry River by John Ganshaw

Angry River

The water moved so fast as it hurled itself 

over the upper falls. The rapids were of 

which I had never seen.  The majestic power 

and its driving force captivated me as I stood 

paralyzed by the movement below. The sound of 

branches crashing against rocks echoed in my ears,

deafening, but I could still hear it whispering

my name. A gentle call to join the unbound havoc I  

was witnessing. The beauty that grew from such

strength, a strength that beckoned me to be one with

its festivities.  I closed my eyes and wondered 

about the opportunity being presented to me. A 

chance to be part of an ominous world, a world 

so different from where I resided. The 

temptation was overwhelming, the longing to 

be embraced, be hugged, and to feel wanted. 

my eyes slowly opened, and I took a step back,

declining the invitation that had been sent. A 

sadness enveloped me at the thought that 

perhaps this was my final chance to find what

had escaped me all my life. I turned slowly

and walked away, bidding goodbye to the final request. 

as I strolled away, a shirtless man ran by me,

he glanced at me and smiled. Our eyes locked and 

I realized that maybe what I was looking for was

on the same plane. Plunging to the depths 

below could never replace the depths that waited within.