Thrice I Was Refused By The River Poem by Gert Strydom

Thrice the river refused me
and it spat me out on banks of sand
as if I belong to dry land

and at times I hide beneath the waters
teaming with crocodile and a few
hippopotamuses and a water bird or two
and breathing through a reed
while the enemy passed on the riverbank

and bitten by mosquitoes
feeling the inner flame of fever
and being weak and I overcame
the nagging death
while listening to the flowing river,
the wind in the reeds
singing glory
to the creator of all things.

© Gert Strydom