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.
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14 thoughts on “Poetry Thursday-Rivers

  1. This:

    “Where you might spill yourself
    With ease
    Into something far greater
    Than you could ever be”

    is wonderful. A great poem.

  2. “Your solitary sojurn
    Mirrors my own”

    Beautifully put! I love to walk by rivers. Yamuna river is near my place though not as near as yours. I love watching it and talking to it.

    Thanks!

  3. This has such beautiful word pictures (and I must bring up my word pool and add ‘sojourn’). I love the parallels you’ve drawn between the river and yourself (the river pouring itself into something far greater); it is easy to see why you claim it as your own.

    I have not felt drawn to write poetry for awhile, but this makes me want to spend time with it again soon.

  4. Oh Becca, this is wonderful! It’s exactly how you have been feeling “Your solitary sojourn
    Mirrors my own.” Rivers can be a great place to think and listen. 🙂

  5. This is wonderful – “…your solitary sojourn 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.” Just brilliant, Becca!

  6. It may be easier to love those wild flowing, undamned rivers, but the way you identify with this one, well, it runs very deep, very far.

  7. Becca,
    Isn’t it interesting how we lay claim to pieces of the river?

    They are our touch stone.
    Your thoughts prompted by your converstions with “your” river are comfortably revealing.
    rel

  8. For me it was all about “Knowing so little about life/Yet continuing with joy/To flow.”

    You’re wiser than you know.

  9. Hi! This is so very beautiful. “My own personal river” really captures that intensely intimate connection that I know I’ve experienced when looking at a river too. And my heart totally smiled with the line “I stand and stare and let you do the talking” — this is just wonderful. I also appreciated reading the history of the Rouge, and how you and your husband and son enjoy it. Well done!

  10. It’s wonderful to have such affection for something that isn’t grand or majestic, but rather a simple part of life. I like this.

  11. I think poetry often is about the structure of how you put it together. That is what stands out to me in this poem. Very well stated.

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