From Little River to Ocean Dreamer

Dear Nixie,

I wondered if you might deliver a letter to one who has passed over to a new existence. I wrote it some years ago to make sense of loss. I’ve never shown it to anyone before. I tried to write a new one in the here and now but I kept getting all of it wrong so here’s one from 1994. Could you send it along the river of time by chance? Here it is…..

Dear Big River,

Today I read a poem right out loud in your honour. It’s one of my favourites of all time. I think it’s a beautiful poem:

“I’ve known rivers

I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the

flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers .

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.

I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.

I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.

I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln

Went down to New Orleans,

and I’ve seen its muddy

bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I’ve known rivers:

Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.”

You knew Rivers too in your own way didn’t you River?  Did you really die or are you painting pictures of the sky now? I think you knew rivers. All of us are rivers in our own way, in our own place, in our own time. Sometimes we’re a river people go to, dip their toes in, want to swim with, hold the world in. Like you were. Sometimes we’re a river no-one knows of, but the birds and a single firefly light that never goes out that keeps us buoyant, even at the lowest ebb. I guess it turns out there’s not always so much of a difference between these kinds of River’s River, after all. Sometimes the first kind of river just grows bigger and bigger and bigger, but not deeper and the river isn’t a River at all anymore and is replaced by the second kind of River. I wished I could have sent you a firefly in time but little rivers have a lot further to travel to find big rivers and beautiful muddy waters you see. It’s a lot of pressure being a Big River and maybe you never felt all that Big in the first place. You weren’t Big. But you were deep. You didn’t have to wipe the muddy waters clean and you didn’t have to keep up with the race. You didn’t have to make chase with the sky to fly yourself away from the River because your River was good enough already. But it wasn’t to you and you never truly knew the actual truth about yourself. Often deep rivers don’t because they are so dam deep.

All of it, the river in you – the veins, red, ruby, life…all of it to the ocean heart and the valleys of your soul, all of it was the most beautiful river. It’s like all of us. Really, all of us are rivers and oceans, leaves, and rain and wings warm in a Summer breath, in and out, in and out like the tick of a flickering flame. If anyone should find my writing and you’re wondering about Rivers, about Big Rivers, Small Rivers and all the in between then here…listen to River…

“ Right time, gentle time, don’t rush,

Sometimes waiting is painful.

Sometimes it’s a struggle

But Circle is always turning.

Right time will come

Be patient

Be Still.

Listen.”

Love

Little River

Dear Little River,

I shall do my best to pass these words over. It should be noted that It is true I barely do know what is going on almost most of the time, because truth is such a dam complicated word, but there is something I do know, sometimes "tiny" can fill a whole dam beautiful ocean eventually so take it step by step, find the right fillings and never give up.

Yours,

Nixie xx