7. "Destiny...A Merciful Surrender to the Weight of Gravity"

This piece is a tribute to a traumatic life lived that could no longer be saved, no matter how hard I tried… It has taken a few years to write something about someone I did not know until our fated intersection just upriver from my boat ; that April 21^st day at the river will be a moment never forgotten … A cathartic attempt to walk an understanding  mile in another’s shoes .  Sometimes our life changes so quickly we don’t really even comprehend how drastically a moment changes everything .... This narrative prose poem is based on a true life event .

Major depression is a debilitating illness that lurks below the surface often going undetected by loved ones .  You never know what inner turmoil lies within the outer cover of a book at a casual glace .   This cathartic writing is another attempt to heal from a past moment ; The aftermath of those left behind in the wake of tragedy at that exact spot , at that instant on an April 21st spring day 7 years ago . Changes at so many levels in so many lives, altering my personal journey forevermore …











The Weight of Gravity

Standing on the edge of oblivion
Dark circled eyes span the distant horizon ;
visible signs of an unsettled agony
tremble through the veiled ache within .
Knowing he had tried a lifetime
to cast off  this body’s  cage
Shed the invisible skin only he could feel
 
Racing thoughts suffer
as scrambled search for glimmers of hope’s shining light
fade into an unrecognizable hollow stare
All the while instinctively trying to regain focus
through the distracting fog and haze
of the inevitable price to be paid.
Thoughts of waiting here forever wane
as this haunting loneliness,
won’t abandon like so many before

Struggling for balance,
teetering on the brink of helpless surrender,
vulnerable thoughts of ever belonging faded
with the final concluding memories;
That fated moment when the last rumination
of physical human touch vanished
like a smoldering wick without wax
Smoke rings rising to dissipate,
disappearing into an untouchable broken dream...

Never really understanding
whether destiny carved the pathway
of the long and twisting road
leading to this defining crossroad
Or is it the preordained instant of forgiving submission
Doomed from the very beginning …
There were many rivers to cross
since the age of innocence ;
jumping off cliffs into the soothing summer waters
with the faith to fly like a bird,
soaring into the great abyss.

Now he stood frozen ;
stranded in an awkward moment
of confused trepidation
Daunting indecision overwhelms
a distorted perception
Essence… praying to the spirits of the universe
for the strength to understand the nebulous lines
between destiny and merciful surrender.
Asking for the strength to accept
that which could no longer be changed

At the cusp, high above
a waiting river too wide to cross …
Rolling out to sea …
grasping a precious journey’s completed circle
back to begin where life started
Physically too tired to reach
for another unknown distant shoreline .
Love is a river of tears
better crossed where peaceful waters flow

“ Its only water, I want it washing over me ,
Washing over me ”…

©  2012~2013 … Harlon Rivers  …All Rights Reserved

The following narrative is a more complete description of the events of  “That Day At the River” Although not graphic it does talk about what happened in the aftermath and may be triggering if you are prone to the sensitive emotions with an attempt at understanding thoughts of trying to save a passing life…

 
"That Day at the River"

I knew I was at that spot on that river at that moment for that reason. I was shown what could happen first hand... the horror left behind with an innocent bystander only trying to do a good deed before the realization that he that suffered such pain…in the moment ending a dark circle of life .  Never realizing my life could be over and it could be me if things didn't change….

There was an ethereal feeling around me that I could not identify.   The kind of nonverbal communication an Empath picks up on as if your radar is finely tuned into the cosmos of a stranger's soul.

When I heard and saw the splash in the water above me, under the giant arch bridge, I thought I could save a life as this human being must have accidently fallen.... The spirit within my soul made me reach out; physically touch the last of a troubled life as the tangled broken rope he bought 40 minutes earlier, a bus ride away, had been tied to the bridge for the final time. With all my will and all my strength it could not be removed from his neck. He had jumped out of a life he could no longer live, directly into mine, nearly taking me with him.

 Admittedly, he definitely took a part of me with him and left a traumatic, unforgettable memory behind...I nearly fell overboard trying, with adrenalin raging in final desperation to remove it, saving a life that didn't wish to be saved.  It was a very spiritual moment. I cried out to the heavens to show me what to do at that confusing, panicked moment as the spirit within my soul took over! It was as if I was not consciously aware of what I was trying to do, simply instincts to survive, driven to save a fallen angel.  I felt the strength of an adrenalin rush, I did not recognize. Was this to be my final moment as I struggled in the dangerous river currents from my small boat? 

 I felt the energy of that man’s soul leave his body and come with me as I took his remaining physical form to the river's edge where the crowds that witnessed the event waited with EMT's. I wouldn't answer a single question because I could not speak and wept emotionally exhausted. Someone I know, pushed my boat away from the rocks and yelled out "leave him alone can't you see he's hurting!" The lost man’s soul wept with me until the darkness of the evening came at a secluded, isolated spot down the river...

 Some days I’m left wondering whether the energy of his lost soul ever left me. Is it my long extended bereavement for this broken stranger I plucked from the river and the empathy exchanged during the fleeting final moments of our time together?

 As time moved on I finally stopped my running from the signs of PTSD, implications of this catastrophe of humanity had caused a relapse of cynical depression and severe anxiety. Nightmares of reliving the traumatic moment happened nightly.  It took nearly two years for me to talk to his family, while everyone but me knew who they were and they knew who I was;  only by sharing together could peace ever be found...

 Eventually, after some time, I received a long letter from his sister that could not wait any longer. The spirit within me helped me work through everything I needed to realize... The lesson was finally learned, however it is not the final lesson to be seen as my trauma is still reveling the aftermath 7 years later; the lessons in the aftermath of what was left behind by those who loved that broken man. The lesson of the family recognizing the love I felt by trying to save a life that could no longer be saved.  The lesson of expressed compassion to me for saving them the angst of an undiscovered soul washed up somewhere later and the hell they would have lived until that grim discovery would have been made months or years later, maybe never to be found. The lesson of giving compassion to others when you are tired and weary and feel you have nothing meaningful to give to anyone. The lesson of my awakening to the light; the self-realization that this happened to me because I had been a step away from being some other innocent bystanders life changing event...The pain of the aftermath of those left behind was the lesson learned. I am at peace with that now.

I know why I was there and know why I am here testifying, trying desperately to let go of "That Day at the River"...

 Here is a short poem that I copied when I was 20 after I was saved by a friend who is now gone… it has become a mantra that provides guidance …
 

If I can stop one Heart from Breaking
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Into his nest again.
I shall not live in vain
 
Emily Dickinson (1830"86). Complete Poems. 1924. Part One: Life