River Crossing

Since the world is with mystery 
And a whole lot in happening 
Is never explained with answers known 


Left to superstition to draw lines 
Of assumed analogy, conclusion, regardless  
Something to fit, a square in a round hole, "shapes" 


A wise man is seen crossing a river 
At its lowest tide with a step over, that simple 
He comes back to find the river on high tide, "opened taps"  


Would he swim, canoe, bridge, raft; or say 
The gods have refused me passage 
This river is not to be crossed, until the gods give way 


Food for thought, exploring concepts   
To digesting minds, pouring libations 
Do not anger the gods, "dear friend"