Tags
cherokee, death, faith, grace, living, nature, old maps, postmark, restless, spirit, strength, understanding, wandering
silver slash
of copper canyons –
lined with linen
satin sheets
careless carve
of age and water –
blue as cold
the waters sleeve
downward
upward – backward
flowing
washed beneath
these ruby walls
held alone with swishing
sweaters
knitted by the night
to shawl
silent here
the place of gathers
fathers more than years
to save
pushed as luck
below the surface
ashes blown
into the grave
..x..
tornadoday 
Souinds like we were being daring riding the rapids of the grand canyon! Very discriptive and beautiful!
Both daring and submissive I think. Of nature; we must always submit to nature.
When it comes to the river, we have to trust something bigger than ourselves, and we best not mind being halfway between nowhere and no place else, because the river isn’t interested in the destination, only the process. Otherwise, all rivers would be straight.
The river has it’s own rhythm and you either dance to it or you don’t. And always the river leads. You want to go swimming? Swim. You want to sleep? Sleep. You want to fish? Fish. You want to go faster? Too bad. You want to slow down? Good luck.
The river goes, and it’s not going to wait on you. It simply is. In that way, it’s much like love. On second thought, I think that’s exactly what a river is – love! ~ And of course, I would think that. ~ Thank you, Wendell. ~ Love ever, Me
This is beautiful imagery, Bobbie. The picturre looks like the Smokies, but the feeling is all whitewater and the Rockies. Brings back fishing trips in Wyoming. Loved it.
~xo~
Paul
Oh yes, fly fishing in the rockies! Not much of anything closer to heaven! Thank you, Paul. ~ Love always, Bobbie