THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

RIVERS AND CANYONS

Copyright Feb. 14, 2012

Gordon Kuhn, Poet in the Rain Productions

All rights reserved.

 

I don’t know which way to go

When the river starts to flow,

As canyon walls begin to rise,

And I hear my neighbor’s painful cry.

 

A bottle full of forgetfulness might be a needed share,

It’s temporary pain relief with all its contents on a dare,

While memories and ghosts slip slowly past,

Sharing moments that haunt and forever last

 

I just don’t know which way to go

When that river starts to flow

As a whirlpool surfaces and draws me ever near

It’s the sadness waiting there that I fear

 

I crossed this river yesterday, when it was dusty dry,

Laying beneath an open, peaceful, friendly sky;

But now the river has begun to grow,

And emptiness I begin to know.

 

There is no place left for me to go.

As the water starts to spread in its growing flow.

The canyon walls begin to rise

And clamber for the open sky

 

I don’t know which way to go

As the river begins to flow

I crossed the path when I thought it safe

Now shadows about me form to drape.

 

The canyon walls look as brown glass might

When lying next to that which is empty in my sight

And I hear my neighbor’s lonely cry

And I feel so thirsty with a throat most dry

 

I crossed the river when I thought it safe

But learned the river has no escape

There is no place left for me to go

The water knows and so grows the flow.

 

And I hear my neighbor’s lonely cry.