A poem about letting go

"Cold and content"

Those mountains

lay beside the river

cold

and content

to rest while she carves them away.

I know their beauty--

their glacial lakes

and ridges nestled with trees

grows from the place

where the river runs

and the cool blue stones bear away.

Deep gashes in these summits

cut by the ice shifting

and the mountains

honoring her change

Now fill--

the river bringing healing waters

to the injury she caused.

I wake every morning

wiggling, itching,

wondering

how they do it--

give way to her rushing commands

without a single lament

for all she asks we leave behind.

I know in the end

she will refill my cup.

Heal the wounds she carved

as she swept me away.

I know in the end

I will come to lie beside the river

cold

and content.

22 enero 2018