Ode to rivers

To know a river is a patient undertaking.

Rivers change, and we must recognize the changes and adapt to them. We must ebb and flow with understanding as the river does. We must spend as much time watching them with our eyes and ears as we do playing in them. While sitting on their banks taking in the fiery reflections of a sunset, we may come to know ourselves.

A river never sleeps. It is timeless. It flows like our lives. It has a birthplace and a destination. Does it have memories, dreams, regrets? Unlike our lives, a river never stops flowing. Watching its constancy renews us. There is hope and youth in rivers.
Rivers speak to us, if we listen carefully we can hear their trickles, mummers, and roars.

Thoughts are born in their midst, along with insects. Poems swoop with evening swallows, memories are stirred by dragonflies, and the wind whispers through willows the meaning of life.