Tashlick

I enter the river
in autumn each year,
when light fades,
when hope quakes
new moon, deep dark
I enter the river.
Your love is my ark.

Pockets hang heavy
with fear and regret.
I enter the river
to empty and fill.
Love will sustain me.
The river can change me.
I trust that it will.

Victoria Hbendricks, September 21, 2009