RIVER ROAD

He loved to walk alone
along the old macadam road,
along the edge of the river.
That’s where he did his best talking to himself.
Potholes, broken bottles, discarded beer cans –
didn’t bother him.
They were in his past.
Now it was only the river,
the flowing of the waters,
the present and the future.
He stopped now and then,
here and there, along the road,
to see the sun reflecting
on the running river ripples,
and then to hear the delicious
sucking sounds
of our Forever Flowing God.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2008