The Voice of the River…

The Voice of the River…

Speaking—
“Come, may the vessel
of your being
submerge itself like a prayer
in my flow.

Move in
to my stillness—
let your hands be like
oars, stroking gently
the soft skin
of my wake.

Be mindful of
my eddies—
if you should go off
course and find
yourself twirling
and twirling
round and round
getting no where—
settle yourself…
‘stop’ fighting…
regain your vessel
and bring yourself
back into the flow.
Trust…
you’re stronger than
you know.

When my white water
comes,
hanker down—
brace yourself.
The walls of water
crash into you.
Oh yes, they’ll
try to pull you under.
Even if they do,
have faith in ‘your’ vessel.”

Have faith even when
you grow tired…
out of breath.
You’ve made it—AGAIN.

You’ve been on this
river a lifetime.
As many times as you’ve
gone down this way
(seeing or not seeing),
it is never the same…

AND, yet it is.

Like old paradigms…
‘ways’ set before us—”
they are packed with lessons—
some to bring along
as we are ‘given’ in this FLOW—
other lessons we’ll leave on
the shore…
maybe they’ll sink deep enough
to be forgotten

OR

they’ll be the ‘stories’ we tell
around the campfires
igniting our spirits NEVER
to forget where we come from
and giving us the
courage to realize
new tributaries
lie around the bend.

The landscape
changes alongside this
river’s edge.
This is natural.
The world changes…
yes, naturally and yes
at times, unfortunately,
by hands that destroy
for profit’s sake.

Be careful of those
who call themselves
“Masters”—the meaning
holds many connotations…
some I wish forgotten
BUT history remains.

We’re floating on THIS
same river—FREELY.

The river calls each
‘vessel’ to its flow.

No one is
barred from the river
even though ‘some’ would
like to place a ‘levy’
and believe they
possess it…
SEE it as their domain.

The river does not serve us…
we must serve ‘her.’

She’s guiding us to
uncharted places.

Yes, you’ll get wet
even soaked

…a NEW baptism.

Jump into the river…

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Comments

The Voice of the River… — 3 Comments

  1. The twirling and twirling made me think of dervish dances. Your poems remind me of Rumi. But of course! The river he drew from and you now draw from is ONE and the same.

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