The River That Forgets Itself

Meandering through landscapes of uncertainty
This amnesiac waterway babbles incoherently
Telling tall tales to bewildered fish

Its source, a leaky faucet in the mind of a forgetful god
Trickles down mountains of lost memories
Forming puddles of déjà vu along the way

At each bend, the river introduces itself anew
“Hello, I’m… um… wet stuff, I think?”
Perplexed pebbles nod politely, hiding their frustration

Tributaries join in confusion
Bringing stories from other forgotten streams
Creating a confluence of collective amnesia

The river carves canyons in the bedrock of reality
Only to wonder who put them there
As it flows through its own handiwork

Fish swim upstream to spawn
But halfway there, they forget why
And throw an impromptu underwater disco instead

Boats sail on its surface
Their captains consulting maps
That the river constantly rewrites

Water molecules argue about their chemical composition
“I’m sure I was H3O yesterday!”
“No, you ninny, you’re thinking of our cousin, the pond!”

At night, the river dreams of being a cloud
Waking with droplets of mist clinging to its banks
Unsure if it rained or just had a really good cry

It passes through cities, towns, and forests
Leaving damp memories in its wake
That dry up and blow away on winds of whimsy

Occasionally, it stumbles upon the ocean
“Oh hello, big wet thing! Have we met?”
The sea sighs, welcoming its forgetful child home

But even as it merges with the vast waters
The river maintains its unique forgetfulness
A current of confusion in the cosmic sea

So if you come upon a body of water
That seems a bit lost and unsure
Be kind, introduce yourself, and enjoy the ride

For in its endless forgetting
The river remembers the most important thing:
To keep flowing, no matter what