Poetry Thursday-Rivers

Rouge River~Lola Valley Park, 2006 River Visit
I've come to think of you
As my own personal river,
Running as you do
Through this park
Where I've walked each day
For most of my life.
Your solitary sojurn
Mirrors my own,
Searching as you are
For the sea
Where you might spill yourself
With ease
Into something far greater
Than you could ever be.
Mostly I stand and stare
And let you do the talking,
Knowing as you must
More truth than
My few years
Could teach me.
Your sweet babble
Confiding secret dreams and sage advice
Reminds me I am not alone,
Running as I do
Searching as I am
Knowing so little about life
Yet continuing with joy
To flow.
A small section of the Rouge River runs through the park right across the street from my house. The Rouge is a 126 mile river which eventually empties into the Detroit River. It served as the highway and water source for the Woodland Indians back in the mid 1700's. In the 1800's, French traders used it as an entry point into Detroit.
Industrialization took it's toll on the Rouge. It's not a pretty river, in fact it's gritty and hardworking, like most of the people in this city. But I still like to stand along its banks and listen to it as it runs underneath the roadway. When my husband was a child, he ice skated along it's banks, and picked his way across it on a stone bridge on his way to school. My son delighted in standing beside it and throwing rocks into shimmering pools.
It may not be beautiful, but its mine.