By itself, the river of life just gets nowhere. It sinks into the sand.
The river of life follows the living. If the living don’t get anywhere, the river of life doesn’t. The old serpent lays him down and goes into a torpor, instead of dancing at our heels and sending the life-sparks up our legs and spine, as we travel.
So we’ve got to get somewhere.
Is there no goal?
“Oh man! on your four legs, your two, and your three, where are you going?”—says the Sphinx.
“I’m just going to say How-do-you-do? to Susan,” replies the man. And he passes without a scratch.
When the cock crows, he says “How-do-you-do?”
“How-do-you-do Peter? How-do-you-do? old liar!”
“How-do-you-do, Oh Sun!”
A challenge and a greeting.