Poetry Thursday-Rivers

Rouge River~Lola Valley Park, 2006

River Visit

I've come to think of you

As my own personal river,

Running as you do

Through this park

Where I've walked each day

For most of my life.

~

Your solitary sojurn

Mirrors my own,

Searching as you are

For the sea

Where you might spill yourself

With ease

Into something far greater

Than you could ever be.

~

Mostly I stand and stare

And let you do the talking,

Knowing as you must

More truth than

My few years

Could teach me.

~

Your sweet babble

Confiding secret dreams and sage advice

Reminds me I am not alone,

Running as I do

Searching as I am

Knowing so little about life

Yet continuing with joy

To flow.

~

A small section of the Rouge River runs through the park right across the street from my house. The Rouge is a 126 mile river which eventually empties into the Detroit River. It served as the highway and water source for the Woodland Indians back in the mid 1700's. In the 1800's, French traders used it as an entry point into Detroit.

Industrialization took it's toll on the Rouge. It's not a pretty river, in fact it's gritty and hardworking, like most of the people in this city. But I still like to stand along its banks and listen to it as it runs underneath the roadway. When my husband was a child, he ice skated along it's banks, and picked his way across it on a stone bridge on his way to school. My son delighted in standing beside it and throwing rocks into shimmering pools.

It may not be beautiful, but its mine.