How Deep The River

The dusk swallowed the last bite of sunlight.
A soft zephyr barely caressed the night.

The wind fingered and fussed with strands of hair.
Musky perfume scented the summer's air.

The clouds playfully skimmed under the stars.
Grand, cyclic orbits of Venus and Mars.

Foaming water flowed over silver rocks.
Curling wavelets slapped at the slippery docks.

Geese flew across the moon calling their mates.
Their journey driven by inborn dictates.

Your toes felt sifting sand where waters meet.
The rivers edge gently lapped at youe feet.

Beckoned water eddied around your legs.
"Plunge right on in" are the persistent plagues.

Seductive cool currents gave forward pull.
Deceptive assurance to soothe and lull.

Black waves rocked you backward and then under.
Your history looted and torn asunder.

Vaguely hearing the whisper of your name:
"The time has come for your soul to reclaim."

Slowly drifting downward to dark and deep:
life flashed before you, a fast forward sweep.

Falling deeper into a soundless drum:
dreamlessly quiet like a silent hum.