River

In summers' torrid heat, sinuous and slow,
reaching for uncertain future far below
the mountain cascade feeding gnawing need
is just a distant memory of greed,
tranquility conceals the winter race
that tore at banks and washed without a trace
last summers detritus in chaotic chase

but now at ease and slow 'neath shading trees,
the weeping willow boughs that dip and tease
catching boaters passing by them unawares
and pristine swans with wings that whisper prayers
I have let her hold me in her cool embrace
and teach me life at a slower pace
I've found her secrets and her hidden face.

The summer river dawdles to the sea
reaching, at last her constant destiny.
A brackish welcome is her final prize
as swirling seagulls greet with raucous cries,
She feels once more the parting salmons' fins
while miles away a mountain spring begins
the race to lowlands no one ever wins.