Heirloom

the river flowed through it in springtime
wide and shallow and warm
lazily splashing on rounded stones
dancing around slippery boulders
seeping deep into loamy soils of smooth banks on both sides
sunlight playing with the water
warming gentle slopes where
wild roses grew up and stretched for miles along the shoreline
swaying gracefully above the water and
vining up amongst young willows at the edges
of the woods

color, fragrance, light saturate the air
water slipping across stone, ripples into quiet pools,
days passing in tranquility

further on where the river narrowed
it grew deeper, colder
gaining speed and sound and treachery
as, of course, it would, it must;
wide shorelines of soft rounded pebbles
contracted into narrow passages, rocky walls rising higher,
gentle river growing more wild and forceful,
a stranger to its upstream self

wild roses became more tenacious
clinging steadfastly to rocky precipice;
intruding, impenetrable walls of stone appear
to cut the roses off from one another,
yet, always linked in ancient rootedness
extending strong, deep tendrils,
wild roses survive storms and turbulence

as if by some pre-ordained decree
river slowed its rush and fury
stony walls yielded to gentler slopes
the widening river played again
among ancient boulders,
splashed upon smooth pebbles and
wild roses more fragrant and abundant than before,
flourished jubilantly on sun dappled shores

at the last, in autumn’s golden, slanting rays of light
the oldest and strongest of the roses
began her gradual decline
nearly transparent petals still clinging
to the life that was
while letting go and drifting, floating into quiet places
few words, generous touches, long gazes into peaceful eyes,
tender smiles, whispers of well loved hymns,
unhurried and reverent passing of the one into the other

and the river flowing and wild roses blooming
across forever

 
-pb© 10 may 2015