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Shall We Gather At The River?
I watched you shed your liquid burden, Emerge from that fluid grave, Like a convert bursting from the river, Baptized by sorrows, many not your own, The water fell around you, As you shook it off and breathed.
I am waiting on the banks, anxious as a bride, Pacing with a holy blanket, To fold you in, warm you in your new life, But instead I watch you shiver, As you're trying to decide, If you want dive into the river, Let it carry you away or, Stand and walk against the current, And struggle onto dry land.
My arms are getting tired of waving from the banks, Of holding them out to receive, Is it time to push them to my sides? Straighten my jacket, let it keep me warm, Knowing that there is nothing I can do now, Until you're sure that you are saved.
Trying to decide if I can let you rest, Send you off or walk away, Knowing you are blessed, With the gift of sight, you can see me, Can you see me? You say there is no future, But if you can see that far ahead, Couldn't you see the fall from grace between us?
Will you ever feel the kind of courage, That fits you like a glove, A liquid amnesiatic grace, That surrounds you like a womb, And keeps you from really knowing, How foolish or loved you have been, Or how many hearts you've broken into, Leaving them open wide to breath.
Shall we gather at the river? The beautiful, beautiful, river, Become the true believers, In lives raggedly blessed, Devotees of Paradox, Singing from the banks.
March 2002 Virginia Lee Sprague
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