Rivers

A river winds; pockets of murky water swirl through muddy veins. Meaning is mired in heavy sediment and aching sentiment. Uneasy sand settles to the bottom; rivers never make themselves very clear.

There is a certain silence found under the spidery fingers of the willow tree; even the rushing river cannot disturb the peace that exists between harmonious shores. Serenity makes this her home.

Footprints disintegrate as the bank of the river erodes. Time passes. No one notices. Stagnant water mirrors stale lives and morphs them into haphazard images of decayed love, timeless shadows.

Fertile womb, teeming with life: the river of a mother’s love flows with unspoken reveries and countless joys. New birth courses through her twisted undercurrents and finds its solitary way out of shady coves.

Thoughts form; words flow forth and babble onward to the sea. Like droplets of water, they cannot be contained. Like a river, vicious words carve their way into ancient mountains of broken silence.

Mid-day. Humidity. Heat. In the sun, the river’s surface wavers with the false illusions of diamonds and precious metals. Deceitful promises sink to the bottom and swim among abandoned fossils.

Bruised clouds hover. Water churns. The river’s greedy mouth opens and swallows homes and children; its broken banks disappear beneath torrents of whirling rain. Mourning brings no relief, no release.

Still waters disguise restlessness just below the surface, and unseen dangers wrap themselves around the ankles of unsuspecting wayfarers. There is no safety here; fools perish among these tattered rocks.

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Published by

CharMarie

Mommy, Writer, Teacher, BRCA2+ Previvor, Sports Fan, Logophile, Bibliophile, Hedonist, Perpetual Bon Vivant mixed with the Occasional Curmudgeon. you can find me on Twitter @CharIsAWriter and here at charcunning.wordpress.com

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