Wild River

Wild River

Wild River took my home away,
a judgment from a heavy cloud,
a down pour of the overcast.
Here, crashed against the rocks are boards,
I may still use to renovate,
to build a wall, to feel secure.
Yet, it all runs, in muddied flow,
as one with currents and the stones,
the major touchstones of my house.
Now that I have no use for nails
and know that nothing stays the same.
Now that my fears are public view
and all my windows, open doors.
It may be I will live this way;
in the soft billows of a tent
I may rebuild a different home,
inside the nothingness of this,
perhaps it is a sign that meant,
to pull me from a structured world
to greet myself, inside myself.

Reviews

[Emily B]

I like the flow of this. The river gives and takes away. We may build. We may let all structure go. I've threatened to move out in the yard in a tent a few times. But for different reason. :)

We build our lives not unlike the robin builds a nest. And, ours, is probably no more secure for all the wood and nails and walls. It is a thought that hadn't crossed my mind for a while. Almost like that double yellow line on the highway cannot hold back the cars that veer off-course . . . deep thoughts today.

[Eagle Cruagh]

Screw the structure of my life !
The nails and screws that held me together
may be gone, but the new life I will create
for myself will not be buildt on security of stone
and boards, it will be buildt on truth and style and
love.
The river is life, it rips and tears until it bares us to
the world as we really are. When we are old and gray
we speak the truth, we are real, no boards and nails to
hold us in our place for we are bare of posture, come
what may.
This is a beautiful poem and the story of life.

It`s worth at least 100 %

------ Eagle Cruagh

[Gandré]

I like how you let flee feelings reflecting in natural realms, and how you create perspective - that's what whole life is about? Always like your natural rhythms touching there, where I seek for answers. loved.

[W.k.kortas]

The metaphor of water/a river is not anything new, but this is an unusual angle to study it from-- the notion of one's little secrets hidden in the cupboard being thrust into the open, when one's "fears are public view". I found the punctuation a little bothersome in spots--I might put a period and the end of line 12, perhaps a semi-colon at the end of line 14-- but these are minor issues, at best; the notion of re-tooling and re-building a life dashed on the rocks of life's torrent is not something that you would think could be effectively examined in nineteen lines, and few, if any, of the common run of writers could do such a thing. But this is not common writing in any way, shape, or form.