This River

The sun on high
is so warm and sensuous
that the cool breeze falters to relieve
the feelings of intensity brought down
and I listen to the sound
of the great oak speaking out
in the motion of its leaves
as the river flowing by relieves
the dryness in the air
and sprites dance on its waters there
as light seduces waters depths
to laugh and dance and play

This river has a scent all of its own
composed of everything along its shores
yet people seem to hide inside
the walls of their enclosures
rarely even looking out
or breathing in its changes
They seem to move
just for the sake of movement
never stopping long enough to see
the connections and the symmetry
of life

They want to believe they are free
of every outer feel
when they hide themselves away inside
yet the river knows the truth
as its waters flow
forever changed by all it passes by
altered even by the sun on high
and winds that speak
of all we seek to know
yet it allows itself to glow
as beams of light touch to its very core
and even more

It sings beneath a starlit show
of light in darkness pulsing
connecting one
to all that ever was
It allows itself to be
at one with cycles of the moon
expressing each and every mood
that comes to it within the dark of day
in its movement searching
for the source of life

It feels the joy when starlight plays
in gentleness as it reflects
even murky depths
that seek to shun the light
It also knows of love
for it receives the feelings of
two lovers kissing there beneath the tree
when the willows boughs will dance in ecstasy
and the breeze will sigh in sweet release

It knows, too, of sensuous delight
in memories of days long gone
when flesh was bared
and entered its great flow
and it wonders why so few now know
the depths of its delight
that lingers on beyond the night
for it hears each spirit crying out
for wisdom beyond doubt
carried deep within each cell
never meant to be enclosed
in fear or shame or guilt

When rain pours down
it floods the fortress built
in defense of another's wrath
for it has known the waste
and aftermath of war
when there upon its shores
the living knelt and mourned
the loss of friend and foe alike
It has tasted blood
shed endlessly for naught
and wonders what these mortals really want
to discover only this - that they don't know
for they so seldom seek
the afterglow of light

At times they love
for moments of delight
within the night
but then they seem to seek
a dead and dreamless sleep
and then, when morning dawns
they pretend they never loved at all
but the autumn leaves still fall
upon its shores
while within its tides
they fly and sink and search
for a love to last forevermore
Why don't we all…?


Copyright© 1999 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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