Defying Gravity

So many rivers we wandered without helmsman or guide.
Some so shallow the stones barely below the surface,
glacier shrapnel once jagged, now tumbled round and smooth.
Others, honey rivers wide and slow, the breeze
rich with warm clover.
They made us light in their embrace, these rivers,
whether our bodies splayed them open
or we lay beside them laughing in key with the timeless
rumble of water and stone. If I were a river
I would be blue and brown and green at once;
clear as glass, the stones bright, light, a rusty refraction.
Would you swim in me again?
Would you ride the river inside me as you once did?
Could we both be born over in a rushing river of light and hope?
I wish I were a river.