Through a break in the trees

Through a break in the trees

   Flows a tawny river

Sanding the rock endlessly

   As a peerless carver.

The jungle is not seen

   In the murky water's face.

The skies do not skim upon

   Its delicate countenance.

It refuses the tree's growth.

   The rushing seeks to replace

Tribulations for peace

   Skipping them away.

Its waters fill my mind.

   I remember Zongo Falls

As an obscure haven

   For which my heart longs.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"Tawny" is such a great poetic word.
Water can be such a mirror...murky water doesn't show truth, or maybe the truth we want it to.
You do a great job of blending nature with philosophy in your poems.
Really glad I found your page, Amy,
j.