Last night, main street had that small town summertime feeling…A group was eating in the park, a block away, an older gentleman was doing his mowing, Sassy my Siamese chased a squirrel up a tree…A neighbor’s faucet was running. I got a paper and pen and tried to say what it is that I feel for you. I’m about to leave for school so I’ll be moving away but you’ve been my friend and confident during a difficult time. I’m going to miss you….It began to rain along with streaks of lightning and thunder-the kind where the sky cracks into a thousand pieces-sounds that carry me down stream to a place called ecstasy. Anyway this is my ode to you, Platte River…I’ve loved you ever since I was tiny and minnows ran between my legs.
Platte River flowing, sand and water, my special place-
a piece of land, soother of my soul.
You inspire fires that burn within.
Starlight, moonlit nights, nature’s symphony at play
I dip my feet in the water, then swirling, whirling, I tumble, returning to rest.
The fire crackles as breezes caress and slow the racing of my mind
Rising I walk beneath giant cottonwoods that grow beside your dreamlike streams.
Rain falls and I reach high catching drops that come from heaven downward
between the tree’s branch and bough…
Thunder’s sudden crash breaks loose the shell that binds my hidden grief.
Crying, I begin to weep, my tears wash away- disappearing down stream.
I’m infused with a lightness named relief.
Fragile, I emerge agile like the deer who leaps over boundaries,
sailing free through the air.
Returning to the stream, I pretend it’s winter on the Platte
a time when ice, magnificent and majestic, crashes.
I watch as it sails swiftly by. Boldly I jump aboard, and when morning comes
I find myself in the midst of spring.
Surrounded by the lily white and pastels, their petals soft of color,
the dark of before is gone.
I look ahead, gathering flowers for strength before warmer airs
lift me into summer.
So here we are river Platte. You carried me from season to season
As I metamorphosed complete, the one I was meant to be.
I’m packed and ready to depart for ports unknown, however small or big the risk
but someday in the winter of my years,
I’ll return to this spot of sand and water-you and I again touching
Until then, I will keep you in the womb of my heart
Barb Franzen
