A River Dried
Birds sing a somber song,
air is filled with hollow words,
the sun shines not so bright.
As mountains melt, a stream is forged
from son and daughter
Clouds above that hang in wait
unleash their strength
and forge the river ever wide.
Steeped in the oak there remains
those of a life that held the reigns.
At last! The brighter rays break through
the clouds, the trees, the pastel hues.
The rain, it slows,
the river dries,
its course already laid.