“ . . .The hickory told me manifold
Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall
Wrought me her shadowy self to hold, The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine, Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign, Said, 'Pass not, so cold, these manifold . . .” (ex. The Song of the Chattahoochee — Sidney Lanier)
Once upon a time I spent many happy hours in raft or canoe—
Or just IN the chilly Chattahoochee River.
I hunted squirrel and rabbit in thick woods on her banks in Roswell, GA.,
And fished in and around the painted rocks at the shoals.
I listened, on occasion, to a fly fisherman named “Fig” spin yarns,
Not of trout, but chain pickerel—they evidently have teeth!
Once I slipped and baptized myself and my classical guitar in the rapids;
We were both saved.
I loved those man-v-river hours of my youth.
I wish I could return. Though I know the truth. Still,
I learned a few useful lessons as I studied the ways of that stream.
As the seers and poets of old raved,
The eclectic flora and fauna that graces her shores is unforgettable—
A multifaceted respite for ‘uncomfortable’ days.
And as the weeping prophet (Jer. 17:7-8) saw hope
In our choosing to plant ourselves in that wise place
Near the eternal river.
There’s plenty of room on either side . . . still. Choose well!
“How happy, many times over,
Are those who trust and stay with Me, your God.
They are like trees replanted in Eden,
Putting down roots near the river
They never worry
Through the hottest of summers,
Never drop a leaf.
Serene and Calm through droughts,
They bear fresh fruit every season.”
©️ Copyright 2020 MyPericope.com
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