By Robert B. 

Rivers are sacred to me. A spiritual refuge in which I find comfort, peace and hope. Though I’ve studied them throughout my professional life, in sobriety, they’ve become so much more, a meandering metaphor helping me find my way.


These lovely rivers of mine
They never run straight



I sat by the river
The day after he died
I sat by the river
And I cried
I return to the river
Time and time again
Some days tears come
Some days they do not
I’m grateful to have had
Had such a friend
And I’m grateful for rivers
Rivers that comfort
Rivers that offer me peace



In the dreaming
I watch The Great River
Wander from
Mountain to
Alluvial plain
Becoming ocean
Merging with sky
Full of stars
Birthing universes
The Great River
Mother of all life

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Eric H
Eric H
3 years ago

I too love rivers. Thank you. The river of life is only going one way. Hold on to your paddle, and sometimes, it’s best to portage.

3 years ago
Reply to  Eric H

Thank you. I grew up with a little crick, babbling and gurgling not more than 20 meters from my childhood bedroom window. It always spoke peace to me.

Pat N.
Pat N.
3 years ago

I like its imagery and gentle tone.  Thanks.

3 years ago
Reply to  Pat N.

Thank you. I almost always think gentleness when I think and write about streams. I hadn’t noticed that. But upon reflection, it is definitely present.