An eagle shrieks. A pair of fledglings flee
the bluff. It crumbles with a crashing force,
careening down the hill without remorse
or mercy. Racing boulders and debris
arrest the river’s rush. Transcendingly,
as if awaiting orders from its source,
the water halts, then takes an altered course,
regaining its momentum, snaking free.
Life, help me take a lesson from the flow
of undefeated waterways. Instead
of flailing in frustration on the brink
of interrupted progress, let me grow
in wisdom born of setbacks, gently led
and buoyed by providence before I sink.
Mary Boren, 2002
On the river, life is sweet;
love abounds and time’s a trickle.
Occupants of one petite
recreational vehicle —
Charley, me, and furry Ted —
treasure days and nights together;
share a table, porch and bed
by the river.
In the morning, songbirds call,
eagles soar, and squirrels scurry.
Solaces the waterfall:
“All is well, no need to hurry.
Here beneath the cottonwood,
touch the realm that knows forever.”
Peace of mind is understood
on the river.
On a lazy afternoon
from a hammock swayed by breezes,
our extended honeymoon
sets the schedule. If it pleases,
go canoeing from the park,
laughing, feeling not so clever
overturned at ten ’til dark
in the river.
After supper, by the fire,
ears attuned to night so thick it’s
teeming with the heart’s desire,
hooting owl and chirping crickets
underscore the dreamy mood.
Loving is a shared endeavor,
with a prayer of gratitude
for the river.
Mary Boren, 2006