The River

She flows timeless from the glaciers as a stream,

a torrent on the dive down, gushing and rushing.

She never pauses, she and her children numerous,

parting along the way, a rendezvous to keep.

She ambles along, sludge and sin her feet make heavy,

 watches listlessly the rise and fall of civilisations.

She sees herself dyed in the brightest red -

the colour of war, the colour of hate.

She dodges through the obstacles course, 

with the ease and skill of a sturdy veteran.

She carries moaning not, the burden of floating bodies,

the steerer on their onward journey.

She takes in all the abuse and mire, stoic and proud,

granting countless souls the elixir of life.

Onwards forever is she bound,

 her ocean beckoning relentlessly,

Until the mountains, her home erodes,

Until the Earth stretches her tired limbs again,

 Added  to Jingle's Poetry Potluck.