She speaks she does
the river as she flows.
Whispering her secrets
that nobody knows.

Telling a powerful tale
of beginnings and ends.
But in another language
to those familiar who’s,
whats, whys and whens.

So different from the fables
those listening tell to themselves.
As they explore their own good and evil
or search for personal heavens and hells.

Her sound perhaps more honest
as nothing can be held back.
Allowing true expression to its force
without any need
for defence, or attack.

Learn so much we might,
stopping at her banks
to hear her eternal song.

And maybe even,
once in a while,
be swept away
to that precious field
that lies somewhere out there,
far far beyond
right and wrong.

(Poem taken from Go Gently into the Day)