Water Babes (rev)

 

We were water babes, born in the arms
of a sparkling brook that patiently took
us to its heart. At the start we were
never far from its shingly banks, playing
amid ranks of serried wildflowers.

When one of us all but drowned in a
careless encounter the stream buoyed
her up in a swirling embrace; enchanted
by her smile, ingenuously placed a gold
coronet on her tousled head, delivered
a beatified child of the water.

All of us knew who had saved her. She
wears the crown still, the gold faded to
russet in autumn decline, but her love
is as pure as the divine water that gave
her back her life.

In time we grew out of the valley and
flowed into a fractious world beyond
sheltered hills, we learned of wars and
catastrophes, torment and misery, dour
pain of relationships soured; lessons
which challenged our humble origins,
still questions unanswered.

A brook may breach its peaceful banks
and scour a flagrant path with awesome
power, potential might belies the calm
that flowers in gentle times, and gentle
times were all we knew. But beside our
brook the true conscience of peace
shaped our thoughts and romantic beliefs.
© I.D. Carswell 1970