Water Metaphor: A Love Poem

The river at its source

a small stream, one that is rapid and raging violent.

The Rocks near a river at its source - Jagged and sharp. Rocks spitting out from the center

of the earth. Rocks newly formed from the heat of the Interior rocks sediments shifted and thrown up as mountains all Jagged sharp edges.

The river is not always a mountain stream flowing with ferocity.

 Gravity pulls the river closer to the Center of the Earth the river water finds level.

The river water find its course.

And in that course he creates his own channel digs out the Rock and the soil.

 River became a thing in itself self-one that is itself affected and not one that crushes that around it it becomes its own being. The river has a name. The river has character River has soul.

And the rocks as you stand by its shore looking across its dark depths uncertain about how deep the river is not knowing if you could walk not wanting to take a chance and put your feet in this River. Stones line the shore.

And these stones that line the shore within the reeds within the mud from Where the River Ebbs and flows with the seasons.

The stones are flat round.

The stones have the sharp edges broken off.

The stones are worn and smooth.

Broad River and its channel – calm waters have more power than that seemingly chaotic Falls. The river clearly it's just a metaphor here for my love for you it is grown and matured and we're still a long way from the Delta.