Once a star exploded,
kicked a planet into space,
eons untold it wandered
with no sun to warm its face.
In a winding mountain valley,
in a bed of frozen stone,
lay a Weary River,
ice-locked and all alone.
At last, the wanderer felt a pull,
was drawn into the light,
an orbit was established
and came an end to night.
Came the day Bright Rising Sun's
light flooded the terrain
and reached the mountain valley
where Weary River lay enchained.
But by bit, the valley warmed
beneath Bright Rising Sun
until at last, the ice cracked
and a stream began to run.
Each day brought a little thaw.
Each day more ice would slip.
Each day beneath Bright Rising Sun
brought more freedom from cold's grip.
At length cold's chains were broken,
Weary River, again flowed free,
from birth- spring in the highest peaks
to wide- mouth at the sea.
Every day, Bright Rising Sun
sent warmth and light below
to brighten icy waters
of Weary Cold River's flow.
Now Weary Cold River swiftly runs,
white water, sunlight kissed
and around the feet of lofty falls,
rise gossamer clouds of mist.
Playgrounds for Bright Rising Sun
to scatter rainbows in,
while Warm Clear River chuckles
as she flows around a bend.
Every day, Bright Rising Sun
looks down to behold,
a Warm Clear River, running free,
like a splash of molten gold.
No more lonely, no more cold,
but a river free to run,
to dance and sparkle, sing and splash,
beneath Bright Rising Sun.