Tired, the great river in the north meanders quietly through the tundra into the tall pine. My kayak drifts up stream among the songs of robins in the midnight sun. Out of the still silent woods a beam of rainbow catches my eye with its brilliant colors; suddenly time stands still and the river no longer pushes my little boat down stream on its slow steady current. I do not understand how time stops yet there before me is a brilliant portal of light with a warm invitation to wake up.
Its all over and it has been for a while. All the pressures in the universe now fail to stop my departure and nothing can act to make the dream continue. Exhaustion leads eventually to sleep and every effort to keep me here produces a greater opening in the brilliant door of light beside the river my kayak floats in motionless mystery.
After what seems to be an end to a long journey, the moment arrives and I turn my little kayak back down stream where I hope to find an easy trip back to shore; paddling down steam amidst the silent calm river is not easy but rather arduous, the silence is broken by the loud clap of a beaver's tail slapping the water's surface. I paddle over to chase the beaver who leads me away from his sturdy lodge by river side. I soon find myself exhausted after the chase so I slowly drift in quiet peace beside the beaver lodge then paddle the rest of my way to the shore where my trip began.
It's all over and the invitation remains after a summer's thunder shower calls me out to run and busy myself among the large cool drops that come and go so suddenly. My time in the failing dream now comes to and end and only those caught in its fading colors try and stop me from entering that brilliant portal of light reflected off the river's surface. I think I would like to stay but the more they try and stop me, the greater the pressure I feel in the current that is pushing me to finally wake up.
I have been there already and there is nothing in this world of fading echoes and water color stains that can keep me here. Like the sands in a clock I see the very substance of what holds me to this tear filled world dropping away. There is nothing left to stop the force that move the stars and the great river of time that I now find and end to. It has been an adventure and no regrets remain at all. Do not go gentle into that good night and with eternal day wrapped around me I now look back toward the rainbow door by the great river where the white birds drift in grace and find my breath somehow stilled and my eyes washed with tears bourn by the Sun.
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