The River of Life

May 17, 2012
By iwantyoyo BRONZE, Papillion, Nebraska
iwantyoyo BRONZE, Papillion, Nebraska
2 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Every soul starts at the mouth of this river. The River of Life. There are these nymphs who are in charge of the souls. They are beautiful, surreal creatures that wait for a soul to float up and quickly catch it. By the river there are pools of standing water that they dip the soul in and they clean away all weak memories and emotions. They clean the soul until it is as innocent as it was when it was first created. They begin singing when the soul is clean. The song is nothing like you can imagine. It is beyond beautiful and so amazing, even the muses stop to listen. It is the song of life, sung to revive the soul and instill within it hope and wonder and all the childlike qualities humans loose as they grow. Every time without fail, these women will cry because they know that this beautiful soul will be placed into a fragile body that will one day die. They cry because they are afraid that their little baby may have to suffer before it returns to them. When the song is finished, they walk ceremoniously to the edge of the water. They slip the shiny, silvery soul into the water and it begins its journey down to The River of Life to begin life anew. There are rocks and twists as the soul makes its way down the river. This is to prepare the little one for life. Many other souls are in the river as well. They bump each other, sometimes hard enough that pieces break off and attach to the other soul, binding them together. Slowly they pick up speed, rushing towards what can only be the end of the river. A huge water fall of the purest water pours over grey cliffs down into the clouds that makeup the heavens. The soul falls over the edge and into eternity. It falls down through the heaven, past hopes, dreams, and prayers, down until it comes across the Great Creation. The soul, working from pure instinct, attaches itself to the creation. The soul forgets its journey, the river, and the nymphs. The soul will grow into a human and be born, living until the sad moment when its weak shell dies. Then, the soul returns home to once again start its journey down the river.

The author's comments:
This was written after my grandmother died.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!