More On Rivers

Rivers have always played a central part in my life. Even as a small child, when I was unhappy, I always sought out a riverbank, where I could sit and watch the flow carry my troubles away. The first poem I remember memorizing was "Why hurry little river? Why hurry to the sea?" Sadly, that is just about all I remember of it, but the feel of the flow has stayed with me a lifetime. We even purchased our home because we have a little river running along one side of the property. In the early mornings, in spring a mist hovers over the river and I can almost hear the Sidhe riding by just the other side of that wall. Pure magic to me.

The River

The river runs slowly
On it’s journey to the sea.
And the river remembers
About you and me.
I told it my secrets,
The good and the bad.
The river remembers
The glad and the sad.
When life is all over
The tale has been told,
The river remembers
The brave and the bold,
I told the river
My hopes and my dreams
And the river remembers
What I wanted to be.
When my life’s work is over
And memories fade,
You can still hear about me
In the riverside glade.