It was here, where the river forks, that we come for solace, for love, for friendship. Sometimes the river is mighty and fast and loquacious, other times it is timid and still. It is not blue, a reflection of the sky. Rather brown, a reflection of the filth we put in it. The river is our sewage system. But it was not always so. Thousands of years ago, it had been dry land. Some massive rainstorm must have carved its name in the earth and filled up its trenches. It was once clear, not sedimentary.
By this river, my mother had found comfort during rough times. The river's soothing sound, a constant flow of babble, was a reprieve from all the screaming with her cheating husband.
By this river, I had discovered love and romance. The river offered a place to hide in the nude, and be close to someone.
By this river, I realized the strength of friendship, the unbreakable bond of sisterhood.
The river brings us together. It can be a landmark for someone, or for an entire community. When the river breaches its banks, there is no stopping it. It will consume everything in its path, as if nothing else mattered. And when the river is satisfied that it has washed everything away, the river diminishes, back below its banks.
"This big old river will kill us in time. Til then we'll drink its weight, in cheap beer and wine."
It was to this song and many others that I explored the boundaries of love and loss by the river. As long as this river exists, it will be a place for so many others to explore those same boundaries. To be comforted or terrified to the point of madness. By this river.
What an evoking post. The metaphor is really working for you. Rivers are haunting things. I always think of how the banks have seen so many things, but the waters never stay past the moment of joy or tragedy.
ReplyDeleteI usually see rivers as a heady mix of fertility, tranquility, eroticism, and violence. They are so many things, and so much depends on how we think of them. Your post spoke my language.
ReplyDeleteAs Dylan Jesse has said in other posts, I find it remarkable that many of us keeping turning to rivers. Maybe it's a sign of the times. We all have sentimental memories of rivers,but maybe it's also the transience of the river and the Time Past that keeps us coming back to this metaphor.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Cory - this is a powerful metaphor. I am wondering too what it is about water - small bodies, large bodies - that draws us all in so fully. Your entry here starts to unravel some of that.
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