The River and I

A poem

If a river is a thing in itself,
Independently flowing and free,
If I drink from the river I must consider
What becomes of the river in me?

For if I am a thing in myself,
I too independent and free,
I should consider at what moment the river
Is no longer itself but is me?

Is it when I scoop with my cup,
Or when I take my first sip?
Is it when I swallow it down,
Or when I absorb it?

It is not easy to fathom,
For the story told is not true,
A river is not a thing in itself,
And neither am I or you.

So when I next drink from the river,
Sat beside on bended knee,
I should consider that this life-giving river
Is one and the same
Is me.