Hunkered down at river-level,
whitewater roiling around unseen stones,
the water roars through my veins.
People fish, and wade, and gaze, cleansing the soul.
"Look, Mom, a dragonfly," on our near shore,
and what a day! The great blue heron,
a message from other worlds,
carries us with her, upstream, all geometry and colors.
"The water is wide, I cannot get o'er,"
but this is Heron's home, the swifter the better.
Kayakers of all colors spin and turn,
at one with the river's curves and dips,
her surprises new each day, each hour.
Couples stroll on the riverbank, for the river
reminds us of all time.
We are eternity, too, our blood roaring just as loud.
Though I hunker down beside you on a stone, Broad River,
I worship you just the same.
Annelinde Metzner copyright 2006