Ballad of the Wandering River
BALLAD OF THE WANDERING RIVER
On and on the river flows;
she flows most speedily,
splashing and spraying the rocks as she passes
down through the valley.
Oh, merry; oh merry she seems to say;
oh merry, oh how I'd be
if I wouldn't pass so speedily
down through the valley.
On and on the river flows;
the choice is not her own,
for God's will is the river's will
and onward she must go.
Like a child who moves with uncertain fears
with death at the end,
she never knows why she's moving on
or where she has been.
But if rivers could speak, I think she would say:
"To break my onward flee,
against the rocks, I'd rather be
than lost in a stormy sea.
Janet Marie Bingham
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