Perspective

I walk upon a winding trail,
I dream upon a river's flow,
divided by an unseen wale,
'tween what I feel and what I know.  
 
Weary of the dusty road,
rough with unexpected stones,
weary of this cumbrous load,
weighing on the mind and bones.
 
The river tangent to the trees,
soothing with its dulcet roll,
sings a song upon the breeze,
beckoning the restless soul.
 
Weary of this pitted ground,
eroded from assailing trial,
weary of the onerous sound,  
of groaning with each wending mile.
 
The river cantillates refrains,  
of resonating rhapsody,
enchants, allures, and sustains,  
the dream from whole fugacity.
 
Weary of this wretched woe,
of never ending vicissitude,
weary of the ache and throe,
of continual solicitude.
 
The river captivates each sigh,
weaves symphonic undersong,
assays each sorrow drawing nigh,
sings its theory never wrong.
 
Weariness becomes lament,
weeping melancholy's tears,
the river bank is pain's decent,  
where suffering emerges clear.
 
I walk upon a winding trail,
I dream a gentle river slope,
mingling thoughts in staid grisaille,
with light to find prismatic hope.
 
 
 
“God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble. So we will not fear when earthquakes come and the mountains crumble into the sea... A river brings joy to the city of our God, the sacred home of the Most High. God dwells in that city; it cannot be destroyed. From the very break of day, God will protect it.”
‭‭ - Psalms‬ ‭46:1-2, 4-5‬ ‭NLT‬‬
 
"This give-and-take between seeing the exquisite wonder of the world beside its bleakness is a struggle" -Lori Chandler