Echoes

The river calls with a timeless voice,

Echoes of laughter, of childhood joys.

On its banks, I stand, eyes misted with dreams,

Remembering races in fast-flowing streams.

Our canoes sliced through the water’s face,

Gliding with the wind in a spirited race.

The sun smiled down, a golden glow,

Illuminating every bend, every flow.

The thrill of the paddle, the rush of the spray,

We chased the horizon, not fearing the day.

Each ripple carried a promise so true,

That moments like these would forever imbue.

Friends beside me, our spirits high,

Beneath the expanse of a cerulean sky.

We painted our stories in splashes of light,

In that liquid canvas, pure and bright.

The river, our companion in silent delight,

A witness to dreams, both morning and night.

It whispered secrets we dared not share,

In its gentle murmur, a wordless prayer.

Now, as I stand on this ancient shore,

I hear the echoes of days before.

The river still sings its eternal song,

A melody of memories, gentle and strong.

In the fading light, as the world turns still,

I carry those moments in heart and will.

The river’s lessons, forever ingrained,

A testament to the bonds we’ve sustained.

Postscript:

Within the flowing waters of memory, we find not just reflections of our past but the essence of our shared experiences. Each ripple, each current, speaks of friendships forged and adventures embraced. Let us cherish these echoes, for they remind us of the paths we’ve journeyed and the beauty we’ve encountered along the way. As the river continues its eternal journey, so too do our memories, etched forever in the landscape of our hearts.