Saturday, October 25, 2008


I carry my burden
to the river's edge
and kneeling, pour my sorrows
into its rippling murk.
The flashing waters swallow
my offering whole -
no hint of hesitation,
no judgement for my failings.

I rise, raw and clean,
and watch the rolling muddy green
bear away my shame
in its rush to the sea.
A warm and tender breeze
caresses my face,
dries my tears,
and I hear...

The river sings
its ancient song
of life and death
and hope,
of every season,
of every sunrise,
of every passing storm...

I stand
and listen long
to the soft and intricate

The river sings
its ancient song...

I drink.

1 comment:

L. said...

This is a beautiful poem. The idea of the river singing its ancient song and its ability to carry away burdens is so powerful. I enjoyed reading all of your posts.