The Ferryman
Yonder into the waters far and deep
Merging with the hazy skyline
And soon to fade into the far-away horizon.
With him is his co-traveler,
Who has to cross the river for daily chores,
Has put her faith on his oar
And his years of rowing her to the shores.
Apart from the slender oar in his brawny arms,
A slice of old oak-wood plank
That parts his feet from the waters unfathomably deep
Is all that the ferryman has.
Yet there goes the ferryman
Unmindful of the abysmal waters
Or the gusty wind with a fickle mind,
For he believes, more than his skills or oars,
In his mysterious friend that eternally flows.
Renders he, the people that come to him
To the faraway banks, just for a dime,
Though he, for sure knows, that one day
Flow he will, with his friend to merge with the endless One.
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Inspired by Vasudeva, the Ferryman character in the novel Siddhartha by Hermann Hess. Would like to quote the lines that are indelible in me: “They both listened silently to the water, which to them was not just water, but the voice of life, the voice of Being, the voice of perpetual Becoming.” “... river is everywhere at once, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the rapids, in the sea, in the mountains, everywhere at once, and that there is only the present time for it, not the shadow of the past, not the shadow of the future” “He was taught by the river. Incessantly, he learned from it. Most of all, he learned from it to listen, to pay close attention with a quiet heart, with a waiting, opened soul, without passion, without a wish, without judgement, without an opinion.”
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