-- The River of Years --
by John Herlihy
The river of years runs thru us steady and sure,
A sinuous course of arteries, uncorrupted, pure.
A timeless rhythm coursing in its ebb and flow,
Thru the landscape of mind moments to know.
Never a hesitation, enshrouded in time’s groove,
The river of years flows onward, rough or smooth.
The present lives for a moment, never recaptured,
Life in all its miracle, mind and heart enraptured.
Lean years come plentiful, only to dissipate away,
Plentiful years arrive lean, yet still have their say.
My, how the river of years surges forth in a flood,
Born in a bubbling mountain spring, a virgin bud.
Time’s arrows magically set free by the divine bow,
Either swift or slow, to sure destinations they go.
The river of years but a river of tears and smiles,
Thru hills and valleys across a multitude of miles.
The river’s journey ends in a vast, celestial sea,
Emptying residues of sorrow and joy in eternity.
We lie on the riverbank, to its pulse we listen,
As moonlight and starlight on its wavelets glisten.
Silent and deep it flows, as birds sing madrigals,
Poets at leisure on the shore writing pastorals.
The Mississippi or Euphrates, the Nile or Rhine,
Majestic these and all such rivers for which I pine.
The face of the river reflects the image of my face,
Blue sky as backdrop touched by heavenly grace.
If the river eventually finds its end in the shore,
The river within me promises to find much more.
Ah, the majestic river in me, serene, strong, sedate,
The river of years lends nobility to make humans great.
- - - - -
Copyright ©John Herlihy
Sunday 1 September 2024
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That reminds me of the time I was between academic jobs and had lunch with a consultant who was supposedly good at creating businesses. He told me, "Running through Atlanta is a river of money flowing. All you have to do is go down to that river and dip in and you will be wealthy for the rest of your life." If only it were that easy, everyone would do it.
Ron