The best swimmer

Many swimmers cross the river I see yonder

But to what end they swim so hard I ponder

And now that the time for me to swim has come

I wonder which of them I should be learning from

Is it the one who swims to distant shores the fastest?

Or the one who reaches across waters the farthest?

The one that always chooses to swim against the tide

Flailing arms and legs around with Herculean might?

But none impresses me more than this swimmer I see

Who has the aura of a monk meditating in peace

Wisely she surrenders to the flow of the stream

And swims as effortlessly as walking in a dream

She moves with grace, there is no splash nor sound

She is barely seen, she is one with the water around

She slices the surface with strokes clean and precise

And the river opens to her like butter under a knife

She doesn't resist but rides out the undulating waves

With the poise of a person standing steady in place

She treads the dark waters with a calm serene smile

Born in a heart full of joy and a clear quiescient mind

As she swims, not caring for clocking the miles

But only to push and glide, one breath at a time

It has now become clear as a summer's day to me -

When I swim this River of Life, that is how I must be