The River

Caught in the narrows, the churning,
Sucking currents push-pulled her down and up,
Throwing her like a rag doll
Being carried by an angry child.
 
“Where am I?” she thought
Rising above the foam, gasping for air,
Reaching toward the blue sky flying by
Like migrating birds toward home.

The trees stood still,
Watching the river be her journey.
Like old dreams,
They know a few things.

Her legs in front, protecting her
From crushing rocks and debris,
She let the cold water soothe her tired bones,
The water’s songs, rock her mind to dream.

“I am here”, she sighed, swimming now
Toward the deep blue just ahead,
Toward the calmer water -
Waiting.

© 2013 Lisa Rafel