Warrior River

Birmingham

Christmas 2008

Winter is bleak here

Looking up and out at a Blanket of Grey, White

and Charcoal-laced Slate blue

Only whispers of Sky blue

pass by in the distance

Just enough to Hint at memories

of the Existing Sun

Barren and Noiseless

the Birds gone, mostly

the Trees are bare, as well

It seems even the 

crickets and bullfrogs

Hibernate at this time.

At night the only

sounds I hear:

the SLAP of the Beaver Tale

Hard on the water

and It's echo

Rippling up the slough.

The River itself

is Quiet too,

Slow to move

Lacking the constant

stirring of the Summertime Sportsters

It's flow slowed to a hush

Like my heartbeat as I Linger here

Giving over it's gift of Wisdom

and Peace

that I seek

Time is Longer

Peace is Stronger

Memories pass on by

before my Mind's Eye

without weight of Regret.

And the River remains fluid

Quietly passing me by

Past struggles and pain

Filtered out by the

Reeds of the Bank;

as I remember, in the hush,

of this grey winter Sunset,

that I too can be fluid

Moving steadily on

taking Nourishment

Strength and Beauty

to the Next Turn of Life

leaving the muck behind,

clearing out the Murky Uncertainties

existing only as 

That of Which I am Made;

Free to move on,

With purpose and peace.

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