The Rivers

Bold, wide, and gently rolling or narrow, crisp, and clear, rushing over bedrock. Broad shouldered to carry the burden of the depths, or lithe and athletic, coursing swiftly down a stream. Men stand and gaze transfixed by the timeless rippling and unfolding of your waters. The Rivers Provider of food and bounty. Transporter of goods and people. Pathway toward dark, uninhabited places. Prime mover of the soil. Your course and banks perpetually changing, birthing lowlands and broad deltas. Seeker of lower elevations and home of deep wellsprings. The Rivers You bequeath the gifts of the waters from your eternal flow to the veins and arteries of all life on earth. You are the medium of cool, molten flow; a go-between from modest rivulet to vast sea or ocean abyssal. Your soul composes the antiphonal music of the waterfall and rain bearing cloud. Motion is the purpose of your existence or eventually, all life perishes. The Rivers Men seek more than your bounty. They crave more than a quick drink of your cooling waters, hoping to slake a passing thirst. Our souls yearn for more than adventure along your realms. We long to meld our spirit with yours; and in doing so, to feel eternal. The Rivers 7-31-14