The Song of the River

The river sings a song in silver,

Under the golden kiss of noon.

Its waters fly and dance for evermore,

A reel of light spun into ribbon.

It cuts into the earth with soft hands,

Past emerald woods and golden sands.

Its voice a whisper, soft and buzzing—

A lullaby that lulls to the sleep.

The owls bow low with reverence near,

Their branches trailing, crystalline.

And lilies blossom in tender embrace,

Adrift upon its cool embrace.

The pebbles shine like fallen stars,

Smoothed by time into secret scars.

And fish, like ember bits flicker, glide,

Under the wave, where dreams live.

O river fair, so wild and free,

You weave the song of memory.

Ever stream, bright, and pure,

It is the ageless way of the silver.