Which River Runs Through It?A Poem by PeteTime is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. - ThoreauAssabet River in Maynard, MA wandering with purposed direction bottomlessesoteric unfathomed profound in the incongruency of life's channels faith measured like growth rings of a tree i sit on a large flat stone at its shore a hewn piece of eternity cut from the not-so-distant past native americans fished here i seek it out in a different year from a different pier it's depths not so crystal clear this gentle river of acquiescence babbling comfort and truth with the keen eye of an accomplished sleuth speaking every language of love every comfort of inner peace every lost dialect of reassurance forgotten in age learned in unblemished youth its assured way marked even in drought innumerous ways in one way out passing by me not with a confounding whisper but an unmistakable shout simultaneous simplicity and complexity meandering intrinsically about to a lost soul from a regnant creator with clout © 2022 PeteAuthor's Note
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