in the gentle glow of day
you shimmer and on quiet nights
you whisper….. to the moon.
while you navigate the coursing wilds –
these constraining banks, of humanity.
a tempest…. who beats the rocks –
with your racing wrath….
with hidden pockets full of depth…
yet you have these shallow pools
where only you belong –
and misguided fools can tread.
who laps the joys of friends…. then you go
knowing there are always knew ones…
just around the bend –
but only wise old rivers know…
that there always –
comes an end.
and remember…. those you meet along the way
so when you meet the undertow
they’ll still be with you –
and help you through….
the roughest…. of your days.