Silver Bridge

I would stand at the picture window
staring at the river.
It seemed like magic, that I
could be on the bank and
in the living room too.
The river called me like a love
and winked her light at me.
From the maelstrom of my family,
I could watch
her flashing path of peace.

Sometimes I could run
across the street to her banks.
I’d stand on the old metal bridge
where the round Mill Pond
fell roaring into foamy river.
The charge of rushing water
soaked my ears with water’s sovereignty.
I’d stomp to clang the bridge,
and add my power to hers.

Water once more my teacher
shows me now,
there are no obstacles.
Water my beloved friend,
counsels me how to flow
my way around and through
the shape of what comes next.
Water my ally, my ancestor,
I honor
your resilient muscle of softness;
and into its power,
I now immerse.

©Susa Silvermarie 2023