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Personal River

(Buffalo River, Arkansas)

It's personal, this river, this life source, it is personal to all! I, however, can only speak for myself! Not another's words about Me and what I say or think, but MY TRUTH regarding the flowing river and its trough of elixir! I am not angry, I am sorrowful, yet I most certainly take responsibility!

New breath, old patience, youth’s goodness and human love, the communal tides of flesh and bone reaching out to another like the freshness of life’s green cover.

These speak to me if I but listen. This may ooze from me like sap or surge from me like storms, yet, another way, the one that waits on me to live, is to allow them to move through me at a pace, like the tempo found nestled in a symphony of nature, of animal, of myself, the one that moves within me, within the shadowy wits of my human kind.
The things that are given freely, the earth, life, love, I've smothered with my covetous prayers, wasted with a tenure that circled providence as if it were inadequate with the earth used as a staging ground to stamp my failure!
The unwearied way, like the caress of goodness in my spirit or the jarring truth of the most elusive, this is the source of all life, the springboard, not just for my days, but for my cousins, the wolf, the dog, the fish, the bird, the tree, the ground, the river and the mountain. These, more than my kind's dying instincts, should I love the most, cherish as the kiss from life’s original Love.
So be it.

© 2014 Mark Richard Prime

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