A triolet
Painting ©Gerhard Rießbeck
Over the edge of eternity, the silver river flows,
Into the pool at the world’s end, where golden fishes leap.
I set a barque of birch wood sailing, the petals of a rose.
Over the edge of eternity, the silver river flows
Bearing dreams and driftwood to a place where no one goes,
For our little lives are rounded and bounded by a sleep.
Over the edge of eternity, the silver river flows,
Into the pool at the world’s end, where golden fishes leap.
Words from the poemetry unit
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Jane Dougherty Writes 
Nice jane!
Thank you!
Beautiful–I love the images you create of a silver river and golden fish.
It’s an image I’m fond of, silver rivers and those slow-moving golden carp that lurk in weedy ponds
Lovely, and light. Full of light. 😊
I felt I needed a bit of light after the grim Christmas story 🙂
Know what you mean! Although it wasn’t grim exactly.
A lovely way to go, on a silver river. This is my favorite line: “I set a barque of birch wood sailing, the petals of a rose.”
I love that idea too. It comes from the Moomin books by Tove Jansson. Moominmama makes a birchwood boat every spring for Moomintroll when the family comes out of its long winter sleep. If it wasn’t for the cold, Moominland would be my idea of heaven.