The River
It doesn't matter that your waters are not clearly blue.
And that I cannot see what treasures on the bottom lie.
Nor do I care that your shores are not pristine,
But are marked with litter and refuse of men.
It only matters that despite the foolishness of some men's ways,
Your waters still abound with fish and waterfowl.
And it matters too that your shores are filled with life,
Of birds and trees and and small animals that run around.
As I sit and watch all that the river has to give,
I am so thankful that she has the ability to overcome,
The foolishness of some men's ways.
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