“Be still, and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10a

I see a river, as it dives from the cliff,
feel its spray on my cheeks, my white, aging
chin. I taste the river’s sweetness.
I see a river whose shores hold the answer.

I see the sweat and the blood, as they river
on the back of a dark, black slave.
I hear the beat of a slave mother’s heart,
beneath the noonday sun.  I hear the beat

of the feet of the Cherokee brave,
running alone through the hot, green forest
then up toward the sacred hills.  I smell
the smoke from the great chieftain’s pipe.