Where does the river flow
if not to you?
How deep its depths
if these
are not yours?
How broad is the river bank?
Broad enough
for the tug-boats
to push my heart along.
If there are fish in the river,
they sing your name
open-mouthed,
fish-style,
making tiny bubbles float
up, up to the river surface
where they pop
spread
announcing to the Firmament
that Love lives just below
the deep river flows.
Yes, you and I
are the river;
we flow,
run deep
down to that
ocean-mix
in which
our souls
swirl.
Mix me then
in depths deep.
Mix you then
amid this ocean sweep
and all else,
for me
becomes meaningless
so great
is our Soul Mixed
Ocean Bliss.
Lonnie Hicks
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-river-flows/