By the river Piedra I sat down and wept. There is a legend that everything that falls into the waters of this river– leaves, insects, the feathers of birds–is transformed into the rocks that make the riverbed. If only I could tear out my heart and hurl it into the current, then my pain and longing would be over, and I could finally forget.
By the river Piedra I sat down and wept. The winter air chills the tears on my cheeks, and my tears fall into the cold waters that course past me. Somewhere, this river joins another, then another, until far from my heart and sight all of them merge with the sea.
I shall forget the roads, the mountains, and the fields of my dreams the dreams that will never come true.
Isn't it amazing how sometimes we feel all these emotions that we thought we alone can feel then we could find these passages that eloquently describes how we feel?
Maybe the story was about something else but the line, especially the last one, hits like a gigantic slap in the face. I wish I too have a River Piedra where I can sit down and weep. I wish I too could forget my dreams, dreams that will never come true.
Who doesn't wish of a river Piedra that could wash your pains away? Who doesn't want their broken hearts and broken dreams be washed away into the sea of nothingness?
Who doesn't indeed?
and who would sit by the river Piedra with me?
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