A Part of the River Forever

Laying an invisible line of translucent nylon

across the circling eddy of water just beyond the rocks,

in the breathy-chill of first morning light may give rise to a rainbow.

It’s as if I am looking through a window of time reflected in the water,

seeing images of those who have stood these icy waters before me.

I am insulated by the warmth of anticipation,

as faceless images drift in and out of view.

I strain to see below the water’s surface,

but my vision blurs in the snap of the cold morning air.

Waiting in a silence broken only by the chatter of fresh water

for the moment a connection to a natural and ageless phenomenon is made

when a fish breaks the shimmering surface of the water,

and the choreography of fly-fishing begins.

For now, my impatience is tempered by the feel of wet cork in my hands,

my soul is quieted by the orchestral sounds of a symphony of waters,

and I am nourished by thoughts of being a part of the River forever.

*****

Poem by,

Thomas Simms

Poet's Digital Cafe