Down to the River

After writing an article; The Art of Silence, and upon further reflection, I penned the following poem. In light of the books and music I have been indulging in of late; this took the poem down a darker path, than initially intended.

everybody should be quiet

near a little stream

where the wild roses grow

and just listen



down to the river we ride

be silent, listen to your heartbeat

take my hand, I'll take yours

to much madness and sorrow

the loudest words are not spoken

living in this age of rage



down to the river we go

walking towards the light

this beautiful place

wearing many guises

sending me down the river tonight

my baby and I



the river runs clear in the night

no words needed to uncover

an ability to let things go

take solace in the silence

an inner absence of preoccupation

masks the hidden messages of compliance



do you know where

the wild roses grow

down by the river

together you may get away

baptised in the river

cleansed

be delivered

© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

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