River Portraits > What The River Has Seen

By Richard Scott, © 2006 Richard Scott, Reprinted with permission.

Sunrise rubs eyes and
red hues emerge
rippling over deep blue
Boston legacy,
college bordered stream
buckled by bridges
Listen, learn, live
Cool submerged sound of colors
muffled by zoom of wheels
and thump of feet
Arise! The day is here, now
The River has always been.
The Charles awakens and rustles those
who slumber by its banks
This River's witnessed hills diminish
Give way to white New England clapboard
And trees that vanished, replaced
by ballast brick and mortar
of progress, of production
and because of this River
our cherished and coveted prosperity.

Midday torrent of human rush,
whirr in a blur
Gulls swoop and dive,
begging crumbs
And chips and other lunchtime sundries
Blaze glistens on memories waters
Cambridge bound breeze abstracts
The mirrored reflections of Eliot and Olmsted
Eyeing the Charles through emerald colored glasses
This River has seen moments of humankind struggle
broadcast by drum and bell
And print and dot and dash and noise and image
and now at speeds beyond our comprehension.

Imbibe in its waves of reminiscence
Take time to heed its messages
of survival and adaptation
wrought stronger by anger over
abuse and dereliction
Revel in joyous celebration
of running headlong dive into brackish
harbor waters to rise and begin again its
journey cyclical to its source.

The end of the days recline draws near
and ducks alight, then dance again
take solace and a brief repose
upon the smooth hewn homeward docks
They laugh at petty cares of us,
and fly to no specific place
and spy upon the earthbound hoard
who oft dismiss their lunge and plunge
and miss kind nature's aerial show

So here we stand along the battered banks
and gaze into our once and future mysteries
perceived through crystal shards
immersed in sparkling crests.
Stop and breathe and feel
Embrace the enlivening spray
close your eyes to see the world beyond,
the world of dreams of green and blue
and purity of soul and Eden's grace
The world this River hopes to live to see again
Then rest as colors fade and mist appears
Grey skyline sighs and bids adieu
Gone red, gone blue, calm waters roll on
our River's born again at wondrous sunset.