The River Poem by Gert Strydom

I see a couple of leaves
spinning around in the river
in a small whirlpool
circling back,
around and around.

A canoe glides past
with its occupant waving,
dressed in brilliant orange,
and it sails on
without loosing motion.

Tranquillity washes over me
where I am fishing
next to the fluid continuity
that looks the same,
but very subtle the hue changes
like the colour of the sky.

My eyes are on the policemen
of the fishing lines,
but I watch the vibrant river
rushing past, the deep blue sky
and some finches sitting twittering
on their nests in a willow tree.

I am here to catch some equilibrium,
to get balance in a busy life,
to hear the river’s voice,
for a time to let nature
talk to me and to experience
sun, wind, sky and breeze.

I think of you and I
and how suddenly passion
like the river gets an own power,
goes to a new high water mark

and although your body
is so familiar in aspects of shape,
texture and structure
there’s always something new.

You leave me breathless
and like the water
make me rise
in power and strength
and bring serenity to me.