Dale Lloyd

I must go to the river,
the river of my youth,
still searching, always searching,
for something like the truth.

Its water dark as midnight,
still holds my dreams and fears,
and all the faded memories
I’ve gathered through the years.

They rise and drift before me
as silently I stare—
a flood of old emotions
still hanging in the air.

Those dreams came easy,
and I told myself they were the truth.
But now I’m farther from it
than when I was a youth.

At river’s edge I watch them pass—
I smile, I laugh, I cry—
and in its quiet presence
I understand just why.

I drink the mystery of it all
before I turn away,
knowing every part of it
shapes my truth today.

Each dream, each joy, each sorrow
was part of finding truth,
that’s why the river calls me back—
the river of my youth.