Wendy Zinger - Wandering, Following Paths to the River

Wandering, Following Paths to the River
by Wendy Zinger

Wandering, following paths to the river,
My footfalls slow, feeling the cold earth
Willows sway, mourning the summer
Weary Autumn bows its head to Winter.

Watching the spray, the rushing tumble,
Might of mountains in its swift current
Waters deceive, fair in the morning
Wind-tossed swirls of foam in the sunlight

Whirling in pools, spread from bank to bank
My gaze is caught, seeing the fair country
White, pale as alabaster, Tirion, upon Tuna,
Wrought of sun and foam on the rapids

Walls of silver ringing the hillsides, raised of
Mother of pearl and scattered crystals shining
Wrested from the deeps to shine in the sunlight, on
Wide terraces of mist in the morning

Washing my hands in the cold waters
My vision fails, and I see the soft stones
Wind from the north sweeping over
We are in the land of sorrows, waiting

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