Speaking of rivers

The power of a river
breaking free from dam
is an emblem washing over
me with life detained,
blue upon the seam
snuffing out the black
and brown and red so
unseemly in not
caring for life itself.
Oh river can you hear me?
Will you weep those tears
for all I've seen? Or will
you merely wash away
all the living
in your path?

The river washed away
everything I knew, from
city market and home and
hearth-the river did not care,
you have to have a conscience,
your soul must not be bare of
knowing your are human and
all blood is red and pours
like every mother knows
her children are of the earth
and when you break them with
your might, you thrust the joy of
living into mud and dirt.

Someday the might river
will wash us all away
if we cannot love each other
our time is up and saying
all this reminds me of the
ones who came before,
who with humility brought
injustice to the doors of those
in power and refusing to back
down, the seekers of justice
for the mothers who have
lost their sons
lost their sons
must never be dimmed by
a river that runs on and on
and on.

5/31/2020