All the days of my life the river flowed, merrily chattering to both sun and stars. Come the sunny weather, we bathed in her orchestral flow. For at times she was the languid cello bow before transforming into the playful flute and back again. Even as the days grew short and the ground sparkled cold, we could watch her ‘starry, starry night’ eddies. Always we saw her as a friend, as family, as a protected part of our community.
White lace amid the evergreens comes the happy river.
In echo to the song of the sky, the river sings soulful blues.
The river is mother to this land and the magic of our good dreams, our hopes.
The river is the sanctuary of my dreams, the ones that love to swim in rainbow shoals.
In these clear river waters exists our honest truths, flowing amid this valley, quenching earth and kin.
The river is a symbol of how far we've come. What was once polluted and dead now teams with the fish we have restored to it. The many rustic hues of the submerged pebbles are more priceless than any jewel. Just to watch the ducklings is a salve to my mind and a reminder to us all that we must protect what we have, cherish it. Everyone did things they weren't proud of in the struggles, we did what we had to do to survive. Now we pray for forgiveness and devote our lives to the service of God and the protection of His earth and the life He bestows. Now everyone is a Guardian, we are just raised that way.