The River

Jayne Holroyd

I flow, purely on impulse,
pulled along the valley bottom,
I look up to the luscious, vibrant hills,
they encroach the river bank,
shadows engulfing my pure, crystal water.


I flow, pushing on,
I am drawn by the land,
I cut my way through,
meandering, snaking through the landscape.


Through the seasons I continue on.

Spring offers sharp showers,
but also sparkling sunshine, I glisten, I flow,
alive.

Summer heralds hot sun,
this eats away at my depth,
my flow is narrowed sometimes I trickle,
I long for rain to refuel my flow.


Autumn brings the beauty of fall,
I am consumed with colours,
flowing freely again, I carry my cargo,
rushing now, moving at pace.


When winter arrives,
I encompass the river bed,
Icy waters still flowing on,
the landscape has changed,
fields no longer vibrant, dulled by the harshness of nature.
trees bow down bare now, in stark contrast to summers hues.

I will always be here,

I will always be there,

for I am eternal,

I am life itself,

I am the river.

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