I am indulgent, and losing ground. Expectations replacing attention. Fantasy replacing sensitivity. Myself is further away. Separation for the sake of compensation. I cannot do it. It runs contrary. Flowing in life's beautiful streaming with all the splendor of God's gifts, I would get out to share a sanitized, condensed, moderated version of the real? Ah, but there is no sand to irritate in the hot tub. No sharp gravel to sting your feet in the swimming pool. There are leeches in the river, mud, sand, rocks, wood, bugs... but there is life! Abundant life in the river... energy of the divine to tap and see... tap and see... and the energy flows through and overpowers the need for comfort, breaking the chains of laziness. I will take the pain of the gravel. I will take the irritations of the sand. I will love the bugs, wood, rocks, sand, mud because they are integral parts of the river! I understand the lesson in humility. I watch the goose that lays golden eggs waddle away towards the condominiums on the hill. I turn to the river and place my hands in the water. I reach out to you wherever you are and wrap my wings around you. I open my soul to carry the love of life from the river to you, and let you know that I will bear the burdens, suffer the inconveniences, and sacrifice the comforts of compensation, just so that you might see a glimpse of the marvels in the river. Here I will stand as a testimony of love for you, for as long as it is necessary.
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Oh, This is absolutely beautiful! The imagery of the river and the life it holds of its own is life like in your words. I was left feeling so peaceful and blessed to have read this.
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How the River is Life itself ...
and not the flat, lifeless water in pipes. Shimmers of stars falling into its depths at night, water becoming sky: reachable echo of All; a flow of daylight fun, breaking into trillions of tender sparks, sunkissed transparency of wells from under and above.
Yes.
I love the River too.
There a bug becomes a buzz of industrious simplicity; mud gives clay to form ocre-brown, grey-black dreams; frogs gnaw at heartstrings. And even the most dull pebbles become lustrified jewels.
Put your feet into the water, Poet, and feel the stanzas tickling your toes with soft, supple, rippling caresses.
Write:
whose toes are these
becoming punctuation marks
for River's fondling finger poem?
whose eyes become the bait
for clear delight?
or:
where do you take the tasty kiss
of skin
oh everlasting kissing stream?
where do you take this dream?
Now see what you have done ... A new write in the making.
Love
Always Myra
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You've done it again...
I think one of these days I am going to go to your homepage and just read your comments! They are always thoughtful and chocked with meaning. Often better than the poem you are commenting on. But, this time, you have really outdone yourself!!! I have read this comment four times and bookmarked this poem so I can read it again. *smiles* But, I'm not going to embarrass you with more praise this time, just going to say thanks and I love you too.
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Very well penned my friend. You almost had me believing it. You paint a serine tranquil image of relaxation. Not my bag though; give me the pool, the waiter, lounge chair and the drink with the little umbrella. I hate bugs, leaches and I have soft feet. The image you penned of love is wonderful and shows your grace and sensitivity. Great poem!
Amera
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I will visit the pool and the hot tub, but my home will always be in the river.
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Ah...memories
Al, oh Al...you took me way back with this one. To a
day in the south when I spent my first summer away from my mother. I had went to summer with my grandmother..and oh the joys I experienced...actually
being in that river, cause while we were fishing, my
cousin fell in, and simultaneously we all(about 20 of us) jumped in to save him, I had silver fishes in my
undergarments, leeches in my skin, etc, etc the whole
bit-I will never forget. Your poem brought it all back. Excellent write full of life.
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Yes. There is a literal component here. Thank you.
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Tender
That is a wonderful picture you've painted. It reminds me of Siddhartha and how he found what he was longing for through the river. Well done -
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I found what I was looking for in the river, too. Told you about that. Thanks for the comment.
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