To The River: A comment on the ebb and flow within

I have known rivers:
known what it’s like to stand on the edge of centuries
passing one by,
the many rustic hues of submerged pebbles are more priceless
than any jewel.
The river is a symbol of how far we have come,
There is no wading over it, no swimming, no jumping in
nor can we hope to cross it and still have dry feet;
the river is a slumbering cobra,
it lies across the land in smooth, seductive curves beguiling in
the early black, cool and innocuous—
are you willing to explore a myriad of dangers?
I can’t wait
adding to the torrent coming from the periwinkle sky is December
melting from the eye of Zeus—
the river is my heart pounding ever so ceaselessly,
this year is not what we prepared ourselves for,
the vicious swell before us
makes the boat we have pulled with an old war-horse look like
it will simply be our coffin,
carrying us out to sea rather than to the opposite bank.
I have known rivers:
a slice of mellow harmony amidst aromatic leaves
this moment belongs to me and me alone;
the river is ever flowing,
is there anything remotely as reliable as this water?



Photo credits: Giphy

“I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins. My soul has grown deep like the rivers.”
Langston Hughes

Posted for Open Link #280 – LIVE Event @ dVerse Poets Pub