Reflections

The river runs beneath the blossoms
yet I mostly see the sky

Sadly t'was often tumultous cottons
but beyond the clouds I'd fly

The river ran beneath the blossoms
up above, below

T'was a dank little stream before the truth,
the curtain was draped to the toes

The river ran dry, the blossoms wilted awhile
and the stream flowing out from my smile

became but a broken, a bad temperd facade
facile, t'was cracked, brittle and hard

but the source of the river was ever alive
and it came to me to be,

a stream; a river flowing as crystal
a true state of ecstasy

and I "will be like a tree planted by streams of water,
a tree that produces fruit in its season"

The river will continue to run 'neath the blossoms
and that smile will reflect my feelings.

The hand is opened, the desire of the heart,
and understanding abound

will no longer be cloudy figures in dark,
no longer be 'standing around'

But will be action, will be sight
will be things here and now

will be opening and light,
will be gone tears and frowns

but for now, yes it dawns,
and I awake with a start

As I see the need to open up wide
and intensely love from the heart

The river runs beneath the blossoms
and all things are as He said

Into the rainbow, iris of eye
I see now where I'm being led

---

This was written in October 2015. These thoughts come from a session of meditation on my journey with depression in the light of future hopes described in the Bible.

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