Water can be ugly when you sorrow.
Water can be cruel when you lie.
Water can save you, if you’re
honest with your cry.
Confessed my guilt to the river,
poured tears in muddy waves.
Mixed heartbreak with the flood,
begged mercy for bringing blood.
Sullen river took me under
only to pull me back up.
Water sat on my tongue…Water pooled in my eyes.
Water went deep in my spirit to tell me
it was my time to thrive.
I didn’t need a Bible…I didn’t need a priest.
Took my sins to the river and muddy water brought
release.
©Susie Clevenger 2019
Ahhhhhh, I love this! The river purges our grief, and absorbs our angst. A wonderful response to the prompt, Susie. I love your byline up top, about the current American dream, one long nightmare from which we would be so relieved to awaken.
ReplyDeleteThis mountain man KNOWS he should venerate the streams, the rivers and lakes and (as does his Beloved Sandra) the ocean, as you so clearly delineate here but...no
ReplyDeleteClever, Susie!! If that river only had soap dishes handy. In the middle of the night we waded in water over two feet deep evacuating from our flooded home in 1979's Claudia. It ended up giving us 33 inches of very dirty water inside. I carried our daughter and a few clothes and tooth brush packed, Mrs. Jim carried Adi, our Beagle dog. That was not fun, and no washing then. Ha
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The conclusion is wonderful... The ending made me think of the scene with the river in O' brother were art though.. and I could hear Alison Krauss singing.
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