River-bound

Born in a river-town, we grow up

watching the river flow, free and endless,

sea-ward through the narrows and channels of our lives,

constantly moving, and away to the ocean and other shores,

places we can only imagine as possibility or fantasy,

asleep here on her banks, as we are, restless and watching;

but this river runs through us, too, calls us

with a yearning that we can feel deep within us,

hat gnaws at our very being, churning, a temptation

to rise up and go, follow the currents and eddies of our hearts

swelled now by that river flowing through us, free and endless,

this river that has been our lives lingering here, river-bound,

a siren’s call – perhaps - and yet we leave, for we must,

we sailors, restless and tired of watching,

sea-ward through the narrows and channels of our lives;

and the river-town keeps watch from the cupolas,

the widows’ watch, waiting for us to return, patient,

the charmer’s spell broken and sending us back,

sending us home to our lovers’ arms that take us in,

and returning home, full circle, back to our birth-right,

we feel again the longing, like Ulysses, the pull

of the river coursing through us, free and endless, sea-ward,

and restless still, held back by the course of the tides

that are our lives, lives lived, river-bound, in a river-town.