to my river

to my river

soul of the river, they say
you dress in murk, but oh,
king of waters, i know it is not so
you wear light instead, and
bright beloved blue, but
where you lie beneath, you are
warm and solemn shadow

this tea-dark depth, stained
by your passage through a
northern richness of fallen leaves
leaves me quite breathless
dear dark-brown waters, i, your
humble servant, offer myself to you—
but you have always lived within me

you are the life’s blood of the land
its people, our homeland, and of me
for we are water all, and i
more so than most; great river,
sweep me up in your embrace
and let the pounding of your
current be my heartbeat