A River's Chant
Lost in a maze
with walls of
illusion,
I come here
to know the sound
of truth
and the dream of you
in chattering leaves
and the river's talent
for drama.
Water is a glutton
for light
and remnants of sky
with a greed that rivals
our own,
always swallowing infinity
and sneaking past all
the world's old stories
and its seductive pain
and absolute,
unquestioned
theater.
I know I heard you
in a gleeful lyre
played in some
long-ago dream
of fairy-winged lovers
and happiness.
We were happy there.
Give me nothing new
just something to
remember
beyond this,
beyond birth, beyond form,
above self,
fading into freedom.
In the glory of losing
it all,
I found you.
You are the shapeless
chants pouring life
into stones,
the drowsy waves of gold,
the few stars born too soon
and the moment I didn't know
the difference between
the river
and God's light.
You are everything
perfect
and never ending.
Patricia Joan Jones
To read more of my work go to: My Poetry List
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A River's Chant
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