The river of life flows over the bed of our character
In time, the rough places may be made smooth
Aqua petrum vincit: Water defeats rocks.
But what does time’s victory leave behind?
Only a smooth, grey channel
Where once white water raged and laughed
And fell over cliffs with the sound of thunder
And sprayed into the sunlit air to make rainbows?
I hope for a gentler victory
One that is no one’s defeat
Where anger may be finally assuaged
And disappointment forgotten
In some flood of unexpected grace
And if sound may be quieted
The blue lake is deep and wide
And holds healing and mystery
And the satisfaction of every promise