The River

One day

A meandering path

Brought Her

To the banks of a River

Shading Her eyes

She looked in the direction

Where the River came from

Noting where levees had been built

To shore up

Erosion from the past

There were also sandbars

Marking the River’s struggles

Before finding its course again

Here and there

She saw where the River’s tears

Branched off into trickles

Disappearing into unseen landscapes

She then looked

In the opposite direction

And saw the River

Still had miles to go

Endless possibilities

Predestined crests and falls

And all the other levels in between

Before it emptied itself

Into the gentle arms of the sea

She watched

The smooth slow moving surface

Of the River

Gently lapping at Her feet

Eddies and whorls

Only hinting

At the depths beneath

Intrigued, unafraid, drawn

To the spirit of the River

She bent down

Dipping Her fingers

To feel

The embrace of the River’s undercurrents

Her words whispered

Only for the River to hear

I do not want to tame you

I want to explore you

I do not want to conquer you

I want to walk beside you

Tendrils of the River

Curled around Her fingers

Like the tiny fist of a child

Grasping

In perfect love and trust

And in that moment

The River became Hers

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