The River

June 3, 2008
The river flows,
From here it goes.

The beauty of the river
No word can say.
With her undisturbed beauty,
Though, she flows from here to there.

She flows through plains of beauty
(Even though it doesn’t match her own)
Full of fragrant yellow and orange flowers
And, my, how the grass towers.

She flows through forests of oak
Where dew is anew,
And birds squawk in chorus
With the crunching leaves down below.

Through deserts she flows
Dry and arid,
Lizards thank her
For her welcome, cool
Life-supporting water.

She flows through lava fields hot as can be
Where she helps make new earth.
Though the heat burns her,
She keeps going
Without even a stutter.

She goes over sharp rocks that hurt her,
Yet, they only speed her up.

She goes from here to there,
And though she goes over rough paths,
She is always undisturbed.

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