My Hidden Rivers
My hidden rivers with names I know not,
transporting my life with the proper ingredients,
flowing through my sensitive canals, my veins
with the power to determine my destiny,
my fragile life at the mercy of its flowing,
my blood, my mother, my prayers, my hope,
my God, my liquid temples,
my world that I cannot touch,
the truth that I am that I know nothing about,
the me that is me that I cannot reach
and the God that directed the course
in charge of the flowing,
who created me and whose works
determine my life and death,
rivers that flow through unknown places,
supplying nutriment to these places,
sustaining itself until my final breath,
physicians of the ethereal order
working laboriously day and night
in authority of the flowing
and to where it leads to,
a careful design at creation,
something that no human mind
could ever think of and execute,
a supreme thought put to use
and carried out,
rivers taken for granted but rivers vital,
rivers exercising their supreme authority,
rivers flowing from the mother of life,
primal rivers with eternal dreams
but rivers with inevitable expiration,
known only by their creator
who started the rivers flowing,
my hidden rivers that are
hidden from my knowledge.
I spend much of my life these days at doctors' offices so I mind as well write about them.
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