The goddess of the river speaks
in a language I don’t understand
so she finds another way to
make her meaning known
She speaks of all the life she knows
hidden deep beneath her
rippling sparkling surface
Fishes and plants of course but also
microscopic universes
where time moves at a different pace
and every kind of pain we know
finds its melting point
The goddess of the river swims
always downstream, even in her sleep
She carries babies to their mothers
and corpses to their graves
She yanks at the roots of trees
until they tumble into her waiting arms
She pays no attention to excuses
She has already listened to every one
Her justice flows, cold but fair
The goddess of the river is older than the mountains
and just that much younger than tomorrow
