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