I walked to the River, seeking a friend
she called me by name she sent with the wind
she said she was waiting and soon were to leave
I followed her voice to the River took me

And there she was wading upon restive waves
the water smelled chilly, but shone all ablaze
reflected in ripples a glittering light
she beckoned, I went, not a pause, nor a fight

The cold did surprise me, the draft drew me in
my vision went black, water passed over chin
and sounds seemed to cease all but indistinct groan
the River was singing and bringing me home

A sharpened sensation came in through my nose
my chest cavity filled with icey compose
and quickly thereafter a stillness abrupt
The chords of terrene, The chords they were cut

And there I could see her, smiling faint
a last fading vision, an angel, a saint
I called her by name which I cannot account
except that if Loving would Knowing amount

And if Loving was Knowing, and going was home
I’d reflect I was never there walking alone
waiting perhaps, for angelic libation
her call that I name her, Immortal creation

Ahwa2

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