Poetry: The Columbia River

The Columbia River 

Sculptured by the earth

polished by the sun,

it slithers, chugs and churns

its way to the ocean.

Teased by the wind

it shudders.

Brushed by the sun

it blushes sapphire and silica –

turquoise and jade, and

by the clouds, pewter.

This familiar presence,

whose coinage flows

through our fingers,

is only borrowed

from strange eons before

and strange eons to come.

A giant spirit

it speaks to the planets

with a pounding heart,

communes with stars

in the quiet of eternity,

and to anyone who listens

conveys, “I am.”

July 14, 2000

Vicki Westberg