Those waves
Brackish
Sometimes
pounding, clapping angry foam
Sometimes
gently licking the shore in sparkly slivers
Always lavishly lapping those rocks, those rough sands,
washing up oyster shells and memories
The katydids and crickets call out constantly, cloaked in
the heavy mantle of the dark
The stars stand silently, keeping watch as timeless
witnesses
While life sings and glows all around in the water, and in
the shadowy trees and in the tall, tickling grass
And rhythmic waves rock back and forth, like the breaths of
a loved one, steadfast, precious, and too often taken for granted
In the dark, their mysterious chatter repeats endless
refrains, echoing long-forgotten accounts
of storytellers whose
footprints once sank in these shores and whose voices have long-since
faded from living memory
This River, ever-flowing with enchantment, euphoric beauty, unuttered yearning, unsearchable mystery, and also the
frigid sting of pain and loss,
Has carved a deep path in my heart, eroded away my awkward, rough edges
And even now, so many miles away, flows deeply in me
Whispering songs of renewal and restoration
And in the last glimmers of the departed day’s sun, I catch
a glorious glow that silently, but boldly, declares the
worthiness and rightness of tomorrow,
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