The River
The river has been awaiting for me, and I am back. As the afternoon would have it, I ventured out to the familiar winding ways of the twist and turns of the river. All looks so familiar yet so new, so new in this day's afternoon light and so new with the gulls soaring and darting into the water's surf. It is all so familiar yet so fresh and so healing. The banks meet the water's edge and offer the ongoing current of wholeness. The constant flow of sun rise and sunset in the peacefulness of life is offered here. The generational combination of the sight is significant and to be acknowledged and honored and the sense of the present makes one stop and pause and think on the passing of the days and future ahead. The folks come out to sit on their docks, to watch the movement of the tide or to fish. And I wave, I wave to say hello, as I make my way to port, but all so glad to be viewing them and listening to the flows of the waves on the bow and the slow hum of the idleness of the motor and the idleness of the mind. Slowly, I make my way home, yes, home for the Lou and home for me, home for the footsteps ever before me and ever to come.