Floating the River Rogue

by Donna Lee Taylor

Sleeping water, lying lazy in still limpid pools,
Sighs and rouses to a silent current,
Slides in gentle green satin by the bank’s soft slope.  
You stir and slowly stretch,
Gazing at the glassy surface of deep green pools.
Your fingertips slip into smooth wet silk.                 
In quiet shallows, pebbles cut the calm surface.
Sunlight sprinkles liquid jewels,
Catching your glance.
Your fingers explore the cool water
And the small scar on my left shoulder,   
Lazy, liquid loving strokes.
Summer haze kisses my lids;
Eyes closed, I sense the river pulsing
Beneath my languid body.
Riffles urge the river on.
The supple current hastens,
Drenching us in crystal spray.
An Osprey’s sharp call
Breaks the silence overhead.
You reach for me.
Melting snow, far away now,
Enters the stream,
Ice no more.
Distant cascades beckon.
My sheltering hat slips into the waves,
Bare skin burning in forgetfulness,
No protection but your shadow.
The river’s rocking, faster now;
We enter the chasm.
Churning rapids catch us,
Heartsong of drumming water
Rushing to its ocean destiny.
Far flung diamonds of rock dashed currents
Blind us, wrench control from our grasps.
Quivering, caught in the moment,
Thrown off balance by the power 
We gasp, plunge forward,
Fall into roaring depths.
Water falls, falling water
Surging, swelling, spilling water,
Filling, foaming, urgent force of water.
I go under, lungs bursting
Caught in a spinning whirlpool,
Reach for air, arching, lips apart
Explode to the surface
A dazzle of brilliance, needles of light.
Spent, I collapse in your arms.
You hold me safely in the eddies.
Quiet now, water lapping against my thighs,
I lie still, and float.  
                 
                      © Donna Lee Taylor