A RIVER OF WORDS

In a distant unknown held in the memory
of passed down history lies a fountain
from which a river flows through the eras
it is a river of words

The words hold the secrets of the fountain
the fountain guards the secret of creation
the river is steeped in myths and a blend
of truths, legends and imagination.

Sing with me of the mystery of the river
sing of fast and furious words uprooting
obstacles in their path, twinkle in the eyes
of the mid-day sun, meandering friends.

Sing to me of folks on word-prowl
seeking a harvest of ripples and waves
come in search of the cradle of water-gods
come into the abode of wordmaids and muses

Come with me to the fountain head
come with me into the gushing flow
for I’m seized and drowning in the river
the force of its flow tells of a mountain

Set in my core, its size marked by the syllables
of words and the perimeter fence of arresting
verse, in the low and high pitch of cadence
emotions chart the course for a string of moods

The river spews stinging nettles
to harangue those who task its patience,
the fountain arms the river with an arsenal
of verbiage to route all obstacles

The river soothes. The river heals.
the river, the fountain, the mountain
and the words that give them life are us.
We are the fountain. We are the river.
We are our words. We are poets. We gush.

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