Depression of the Dry River
Have you ever spent some time beside a dry river? I have often sat beside one and heard it speak to me.
He never makes junk
The river speaks:
No music of rushing water,
No rhythm of rippling waves,
Just dry stones and wry banks,
Where only dusty sand raves.
No green trees beside me,
No songbirds near me sing,
No playful fish swim to and fro,
No childlike yells ever ring.
No revelers come to picnic,
No lovers walk hand in hand,
No farmers glance with love,
No harvest field, no yield land.
No cows mooing do I hear,
No sheep’s bleating call,
Only jackals tiptoe across me,
With the quiet evening fall.
I am a dry and dead river,
For myself and for others too,
Futile form, fruitless name,
My ill luck is envied by few.
The poet speaks:
Why this depression, river dear?
Created with a unique plan,
Your dusty dryness is building,
The world great and grand.
Roads, bridges, schools, homes,
Need your sand and stones,
Can these shapely beauties
Stand without rocks and bones?
You are good and beautiful,
You have your unique worth,
The Creator never makes junk,
His living love breathes all birth.
No music of rushing water,
No rhythm of rippling waves,
Just dry stones and wry banks,
Where only dusty sand raves.
No green trees beside me,
No songbirds near me sing,
No playful fish swim to and fro,
No childlike yells ever ring.
No revelers come to picnic,
No lovers walk hand in hand,
No farmers glance with love,
No harvest field, no yield land.
No cows mooing do I hear,
No sheep’s bleating call,
Only jackals tiptoe across me,
With the quiet evening fall.
I am a dry and dead river,
For myself and for others too,
Futile form, fruitless name,
My ill luck is envied by few.
The poet speaks:
Why this depression, river dear?
Created with a unique plan,
Your dusty dryness is building,
The world great and grand.
Roads, bridges, schools, homes,
Need your sand and stones,
Can these shapely beauties
Stand without rocks and bones?
You are good and beautiful,
You have your unique worth,
The Creator never makes junk,
His living love breathes all birth.
***
Posted in Wikinut
February 13, 2013
Xavier Bage
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