Our River
Our River
When I was little,
we lived near the big Colorado.
There is no river like her...
in the world.
We would fish,
and swim...
and later,
we would boat,
and float,
and ski.
In my mind's eye,
there was no end to her beauty.
Her rhythm a mystery...
traveling with purpose,
across the desert floor.
The Indians,
the cowboys,
the settlers,
the miners...
felt her presence in their lives.
The farmers, however,
knew her like a lover,
knows his wife.
Together they bloomed the barren valleys.
Together they made a garden grow.
Towns came,
then cities of rock and stone.
The need to place grass
on the concrete a challenge...
to defeat nature.
People taking long showers,
watering their drives...
worker bees in their hives.
Building Atlantis,
in the empty,
where it would take,
more,
and more...
then the lovely river could give.
Now the citizens,
the Politicians... they fight...
and blame the game against each other
for trading money for drink.
Soon even they,
will learn to think,
and know...
there is no other place to go.
We are all part of the show,
and nothing will change,
to the last drop.
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