
The river has songs to fill every season. I turn with the circles, swimming the wind that chases the water, bending around the curves, following the changes in tempo and depth, bound to the ripples that radiate from every slight disturbance of the surface. Looking for the most efficient path.
I construct imaginary boats and then dismantle them, leaving the remains dashed and forgotten on the farthest shores. The river continues, reflecting the sky’s transformations, a window opening into the changing light.
Stilled, I try to capture the current as it passes by, to fill my pockets with the riddles it holds inside its voice, all the wisdom gathered from its ancient repeated journeys. I want to be cleansed of all the outside forces that try to bind me, to find again the center hidden somewhere inside that keeps escaping my grasp. But I am too far, too long, too hindered by my own noise. I have lost the lines and the point of the contents of my brain.
Let it go the river sings.
Not anything. But.
And this too. What seems.
To be. There. You are.

Brendan’s challenge prompt of rivers at earthweal brought to mind another recent post, consecration, that featured John Haitt’s title song as it’s coda. It, too, included the weekly words from Jane’s Oracle 2 generator.
And of course I can never have too much of John Haitt’s song.

“Let it go” the river sings”. The ancient wisdom of the river. This is a most beautiful poem, Kerfe. I love “The river continues, reflecting the sky’s transformations, a window opening into the changing light.” Just lovely.
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Thanks Sherry. We will be lost indeed if we lose all our rivers.
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Kerfe, this is STUNNING writing. It’s art.
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Thanks David. What a wonderful compliment.
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Kerfe you intimately commune with the way of the river, then step out of the water. I love how you put this together. So many things in mystery, but the river and its kin can be depended on. Beautiful art and writing.
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Thanks Jade. The river does know our names.
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You’re welcome. I think we are the river, endlessly recycled, that’s why it’s so familiar to us.
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Yes, I think you are right.
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Such an exquisite write, Kerfe! I am truly in awe and the art so beautiful. ❤️
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Thanks Punam. All bodies of water feel like home to me.
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If rivers spoke our language it would be like this, archaic and mysterious. The whole poem ripples out and back again, then meanders away, taking us with it.
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Thanks Jane. It’s interesting how those wordlists tap into my thoughts–they enlarge my original ideas. (K)
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Know what you mean. At first I thought they were too banal, uninspiring, but of course most of the words we use are ordinary. Just depends how you string them together. Building blocks.
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Exactly. A word, or juxtaposition of words, can evoke many branches.
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Beautiful piece! Active and visual. Well done!
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Thanks Raelyn..
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Nice words, nice colors. Almost think I’ve a sense of how the paintings were done (I think, maybe, familiar somehow) but unsure. However a little mystery is good for me.
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Mystery is always good.
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PS. via email sent you a “river” poem too (not mine) but hope you like.
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Thanks!
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I believe rivers have much to teach us, most importantly, perhaps, how to let go…
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That’s true Ingrid, thanks.
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Language is a river, art is a song, music is the blending and we come to the waters to be blessed and become free. So much magic winding through the embodied ways of the river here. Loved the Hiatt song too.
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Thanks Brendan. We need to remember the language of the natural world. We know it, but we’ve buried under too many other things.
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This line, Kerfe, is simply amazing: Stilled, I try to capture the current as it passes by, to fill my pockets with the riddles it holds inside its voice, all the wisdom gathered from its ancient repeated journeys.
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Thanks Robbie.
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Sometimes we forget how deeply we belong, but for those who know, like you, who hear and see, we will always be called back. The river flows through your art again and again, if not constantly, it is a promise. Thank you for this poem. “There. You are.”
Lovely song too. Thank you!
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Thanks Susan.
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