Parable

My good neighbor of long standing said to me,
You know, I think that old nursery rhyme,
Row, Row, Row Your Boat, is the golden key
To a successful life. Remember how it goes?

Oh yes, I said, but what about all those folks
Whose boat is leaking, and their oars have
Battered blades and split handles that pinch
Their palms and splinter their fingers at every stroke,
And as far as they can see downstream,
There is crashing white water, great boulders
And perhaps a fatal waterfall ahead?

Ah yes, he sighed. I pray for them every day.
I pray earnestly that they can swim—that they
Know how to swim, he said, pouting his lips
Thoughtfully and nodding his white head.
Yes, they must know how to swim.