“A mighty river”

they all tell me

that

is what I am.

A powerful force

able to cut into rock and

the hardest of stone

A persistent force

among one

of the world’s

many

wonders of nature.

 

They do not know

that these, my

blue waters,

are exhausted.

I take no rest

finding blissful

relief

in the slowest water,

in the soft, sandy

shallows

where I can play

with the tiny flashing fish

I wish to polish

some pretty stones:

gifts for

the luckiest children to find

Then

before I can admire them

I am off

again.

 

“What a mighty river!

What swift waters

are these!”