Your foaming funnels, swirls and eddies
in rage and laughter river wild and steady
Your roaring rapids, falls, cascading water
from a trickle born to strength of slaughter.
Your voice is velvet, depth and thunder,
a mother kind yet wild — you giver
tempting, soothing, maiming, it’s a wonder
to rest, to fall asleep beside, you river.
Today Jilly hosts at dVerse with the theme wild at dVerse.
I love wilderness, but when I check my pictures I find only rushing water… wild for me.
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Isn’t it wonderful to sleep next to a river, Björn? Thanks to your poem I’ll think a bit differently about the Temperance River the next time I pitch my tent, though …
The sound of a river is a lullaby for me.
For me too! It’s right up there with the ocean’s waves for being among the most soothing sounds in the world.
It is amazing how one can rest by a wild river.
I know… such noise can be restful
The rhyme scheme you use is well-chosen for the feel of a rushing river and I especially like “tempting, soothing, maiming.” So much depth of character you create. Glad you’ve joined in; thanks for sharing!
Thank you… I want to be in the presence of rivers
I agree! I grew up on the Great Lakes at the mouth of a river and I miss that. Rivers in Florida are a different beast – filled with beasts!
I love the movement of your wild river, Bjorn, verbs lent by the active verbs: foaming, roaring, cascading, and so on, and the wonderful alliteration of ‘foaming funnels’ and ‘roaring rapids’. I especially love the way you describe the sound of the water as a voice of ‘velvet, depth and thunder, / a mother kind yet wild’.
Thank you… I simply knew it had to be rivers today.. and somehow I have went into rhyme mode recently
🙂
I agree with Jilly about the rhythm of this poem suiting the rushing of a river so well.
Thank you… high praise to be a bit river.
🙂
I agree to the fullest; I could listen to a river everyday for the rest of my time on earth. Your title reminded me of the Meryl Streep movie with the same title. Of course, being Meryl Streep, she learned how to read rivers and take up the oars to make the movie.
Oh I do remember the film.. and the title in itself is a fantastic one…
I love the wild movement in your poem!
Björn, as someone who grew up in a city on the edge of a river, I can attest that rivers are indeed metaphors for wildness. My childhood river was the Mississippi. At flood stage one year, it nearly pulled me off a bridge — and the bridge was a good fifty feet above the raging waters. Such is the pull of a wilding river.
Your poem is an excellent evocation of the rivers you know and have experienced. Bravo!
kaykuala
Your roaring rapids, falls, cascading water
from a trickle born to strength of slaughter.
They can be real wild beyond control when they choose to be! Though floods can be destructive it is also beneficial to bring good fertile earth to the banks of the Mississippi and the Nile!
Hank
“from a trickle born to strength of slaughter”!! Great language!
To sleep safely beside a river that is everything! I love from a trickle born to strength of slaughter.
Wild water works just fine! I love the feel of sleeping along side the rushing water!
Dwight
water, in all its form, is the epitome of wild. so as your poem dressed in delicious alliterations.
Beautiful words to describe the gifts of a river.
Oh….you’ve captured the wild river so well… in many of its moods…one moment mild and calm and the next raging. I’m standing above it looking down in wonder…
water represents emotions and here you capture both the soothing motherly sound and the ” a trickle born to strength of slaughter” – excellent contrasts
This poem is a lullaby. There are many things that one can’t buy in life and the experience of sleeping near running water is priceless.
Cheers,
Mark
Fun thing about this poem is that takes something we take for granted, like resting beside a river, and showing how absolutely full of wonder such a thing actually is. lovely crashing flow… ^^.
There is something wonderful about being by rivers or oceans–even creeks. We walked along the Schuylkill River in Philadelphia today.
The rhyme and rhythm of your poem fits the river, and it must be wonderful to sleep by that rushing water.
wonderful…a rushing river is really wild….and the wonder…..giving peace to your mind…
Nice style. But for sleeping, the ocean has a steadier rhythm and lulls you into la la land, not such an adrenaline rush, but easier on the nervous system…