Christine Phillips | + Follow Poet |
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The River Is Flowing

The remnant of last year’s summer bash lays bear on the ground
Staring at me without a smile or a frown, they just looked at me sitting on the big rock on the other side of the river 
The make shift bamboo shed that looked like a liquor joint
 With dry coconut brow used as its roofs lays flat with a blue top spreads out on top and some dry coconut bow hanging around as awning made the perfect finishing. The bamboo shed with its unique design leans against a palm tree that is shooting towards the sky with pink painted root climbing from the bottom to the height of the roof on the bamboo shed .A yellow cloth with a sign that says rum bar sticks to a tree that has grown extensively spreads out over the flowing river. And pieces of red cloth hanging about 
While yellow and green cloth stood close pissing on the naked trees. The politics is speaking out loud in the bushes but no one care when nature is so dare. Nature has once more found its glory with nervous rocks sitting on solid rocks, holding on to what they have got, it is so good to hear the fresh sound of water gushing over the rocks. It is the sound that you long to hear
When you are far away from home, and no one is to be found
Nature is staring at me with bamboo trees, and all types of trees around me is watching me too. Just as I thought of it, suddenly I hear “good morning” my quiet moment quickly disappeared and my quiet space was invaded by two teenage girls and two teen aged boys crept up behind me. They crossed over the big rocks, and dive into the river. And the blue sky with white clouds decorated around began to dance around. They play around for a while but the two girls were unwilling to join the guys in the open river. They all left prematurely as if someone had told them to leave, then suddenly the farmer with the little house on the hill appears. He looked at me strangely and stepped into the water and cross over to the other side of the river. His little farm with budding palm trees starts springing up all around, and bare breadfruit trees standing up shouting amen hallelujah I need a divine miracle .The water is coming from afar, and it is on an onward journey. It is washing away a lot of dirt, plastic bottles, bamboo sticks and all the debris that comes with the overflowing river. Little rocks lays flat inside and the running water is penetrating something very deep .It creates a rhythmical sound when the water is running underneath the ground. I wish if I could spread out on the ground, and just take a little nap. Oh no that is a big risk, there is no one to watch my back, and just as I thought of it the little man on the hill came down and cross the river with a bundle of dry firewood on his shoulder as if he is going to make a fire. The sound is so refreshing it keeps closing my eyes and I am struggling to keep them open. It is such a nice feelings to sit by the river and absorb the sound nature. It is such a nice feelings to sit on top of the rocks and feel so relaxed. It is a Sunday with a difference; it is a Sunday without a conference. I have no pledge, I have no edge and everything that I have got is wrapped in the trees that surround me. The water is flowing freely.

Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2020

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