The River The river knows where secrets dwell Though ancient channels ever change; Along its winding banks are spelled The epitaphs of a noble range. Its long uncharted pilgrimage In timeless certitude proceeds To bring new life into the world And bend with love to all its needs. Yet water heeds the earth no mind, No bars or currents, sloughs or draws Divert the sureness of its wind Unto the everlasting sea. Into the gulf it dies, yet therein lives, For never was it set apart, But ever joined to all and one Through God's most wondrous primal art. The river yields its life into The torrent of the surging tide; A servant dies so that new life Finds solace with a loving bride. The ocean swells in mightier strain To touch the sky and mingle there With heaven's gentle rushing rain And brush with dew the dawn-tide air. As water rises from the sphere, Stirred up by the eternal sun, So must it see its kindred steer The labyrinth of this earthly run. Thus to the soil is called again The water that is life indeed To carve the face of formless plains And germinate the thirsty seed. The river know where secrets dwell, Though not in words will speak to us. Only silence hears her song, The murmur of eternal trust. back home next

Copyright 1969, 1980, 1997, Kim Bowers; All rights reserved

Comments are welcome.