Her beauty is a river,
Slowly flowing at my feet.
Winding through a young forest
Almost motionless
The current waves to the admiring
Aspen leaves.
Small boats with magnetic joy
Cling to the rippling surface,
Travel briefly downstream
Get mired in the sand.
Reflections sparkle,
tickle my fantasy
I watch my toes in the cool water

Her passion is a river,
Churning swiftly with abandon.
Cutting its own path
Following the forces of nature.
Listen, she speaks clearly:
Admire the power
But the fury will not be harnessed.
I tremble as the raging current
Creates a windstorm in its wake.

I sit here, surrounded
By the confluence of these mighty rivers.
The waters co-mingle
I am enveloped in the rising mist
My eyes are shut
Reason is abandoned
As I submerge in the torrent
My soul to be delivered
Downstream
As nature dictates.