Telling the River Goodbye
I can't say how the ritual came about, I do not think it was an conscience merging of an arrival and a departure, and a need to join the both. I do think it was a unspoken soulful need, to attach oneself to that body of water and negotiating a return while enjoying its presence. I do know, that it is a need for me and a generational thing, for in and within all the years passing, all the stages of life, the river was my hello and my good bye, all signifying a time in my life, an age in my life and the days ahead. I say hello and good bye and know that my time away is longing for the presence of the river.
I wander down to the river's edge, and I watch its tiny swells, moving with the tide. I watch its movement and I see and smell the shore line grasses. I smell the muddy banks. I watch the birds and the fish, I see the ripples and the unknown of what is below. I see each bank of the river hiding its ebb and flow, and it is always like the first time of viewing and the mystery is always unfolding and calling to me. The tidal banks are so familiar yet always new, always catching my attention as I make my way around bend and curve, I get lost in its character and its intrigue.
I walk down to the river's edge, pausing to watch and speak, and I stop to think, how many years how many decades I have passed this way, and then, those before me, the river brings it all into focus and brings the voices and the faces of those gone. And so it goes with the generations, younger than me, they too have their ritual of "telling the river goodbye" on departure yet longing for the hello.
Yes, it is the river that is my home and my footstep of every time and every part of my life, through all the years, and the painting of the portrait of those gone away, yet lingering in m y mind and heart.
This river is me and all that I have been and all that I think at this moment. It is the one unchanging part of life, that will remain, and as it remains on this evening, it brings me to all that has been, and all that is now, and the one certain, that it will remain after my days are gone.
And it will reflect a part of me, hearing my hellos and my goodbyes, and it will make a place for that in its ever going, ever rising and falling ever moving with the moon and keep me in its soul.
When all else is gone, the river, will hold a place for me in its eternity and will always hold me in its ripples.
