I Forgot The Rivers Name

Somewhere in the middle way I forgot the River's Name.
Somewhere on the journey, I forgot that first sweet taste.
The sound of waters gushing, the sound of driplets fall,
The suffocating glory, of the newborn babies call.

Somewhere in the pursuit of dignity I forgot humility.
I turned my eyes to fallen things, so that I cannot see.
I forgot the spray of water, I forgot the blood born pain.
Somewhere I forgot it, I forgot the River's Name.

Damnation kills creation, imagination stands condemned.
Paint and tone, and poet's voice, and art and light are dimmed.
In lurid dark and gravestone, in pain and storied fear,
Cheapened hope and promise, are swallowed in His tears.

I forgot the River's name, the tears that from Him flow.
I forgot the River's name, that saints and seers know.
Among them a centurian, a virgin, and a whore.
Turn and cry and weep for me - "Go and sin no more."

This was my first Lenten reflection. March 5, 2006.