“Riverine Rite”
cedar planks forget the shore,
as current claims its kill;
What once was spoken,
speaks no more
Beneath the water’s will.
They that stepped
from off the bank
were bathed in silver light;
old distinctions slowly sank
into descending night.
Between prow and steering oar,
No contract binds the two—
No labels dragged from dusty lore,
No names for what is new.
They do not catch each other’s eyes
To find a settled place;
They watch instead, a heron flies,
through stars in outer space.
A third thing pulls the heavy raft,
A cold but holy weight;
carving soul in ancient craft
leaving mind in wait.
For why define a moving tide
Or cage the wind in breath?
They simply journey side-by-side,
Beyond the reach of death.
The river shifts, the brothers change,
The banks are never known;
Their path vibrant as is strange,
they’re never left alone.
For in the flow where nothing stays,
Their formless bond is free—
A prayer of foam and quiet days
That seeks the boundless sea.
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 22nd, 2026 05:45
- Comment from author about the poem: Thinking of age-old tales along the Mississippi (or Ohio, if you please)
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange
- In collections: 2026.

Offline)
Comments8
good write my friend
Thanks, dear Norman ๐๐ป๐๏ธ
always welcome
If not for yesterday's poem and exchange and the note I would be left wondering but it seems clear where this is aimed. It holds beautiful image and leaves a feeling of being free from time and society's constraints. Nature has no pocket watch, she runs on her own time table and so it seems here timeless and as if one were frozen in a childhood time. Love it Cryptic a fave
Now thatโs wonderfully poetic and from a much better angle than the poem itself, Soren. Thank you dear friend ๐๐ป๐๏ธ
Most welcome Cryptic
My friend, this carries a steady, almost meditative pullโฆmoving beyond labels, beyond definition, into something shared but unspoken. โA third thing pulls the heavy raftโ and โNo labels dragged from dusty loreโ really hold that center. Itโs not about naming itโฆitโs about moving within it. Beautifully done, arqios. ๐น๐ค๐๐ฏ๏ธ
That strikes at certain moments and experiences of our growing up days. Perhaps even a hankering for the rite of passage that many have been denied in later generations. Thanks for bringing that upbringing, dear Tittu๐๐ป๐๏ธ
Good write A.
Thanks, O๐๐ป๐๏ธ
Could the River be a Metaphor for Life's Journey?
Good one.
Was it too obvious? ๐๐๐ป๐๏ธ
Caging the wind in breath, all by itself is enough imagery. Beneath the waterโs will is literally the undercurrent of this. The mystery of no names for what is new. Well thought out and expressed.
Thanks Dan, for letting me know. Thatโs truly validating ๐๏ธ๐๐ป
Fine write Rik.
Andy
Thanks, Andy๐๐ป๐๏ธ
a good write - could visualize the scene...
That's incredible! Good to know. Thanks Safina ๐๐๏ธ
glad to appreciate good work - waiting for more...
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.