I went for a walk tonight along the river with my dog Checkers and sat down for a short bit to soak in the beauty of a rather wonderful end to a very gloomy looking Sunday in Downtown Jacksonville. While relaxing, I was reminded just how therapeutic the St. Johns River is for me. As an avid runner, the trek along the north and south banks and river walk have often provided me with a terrific backdrop for mental downtime. So, for the first time ever in large mass, I will take a leap and share some poetry with the masses. As a blogger who is writing and sharing my weekly experiences over the course of my first year of living in Downtown Jacksonville, there are a multitude of things to write about. Also, as a relatively new blogger, I find myself asking, what would be of interest to readers and followers week in and week out? Well, can I really answer that? No. The true essence of what I am doing here is sharing free flowing thoughts and people such as yourself either find it of value in some way or you don’t. Okay, that’s just me taking the pressure off of myself in preparation for getting to it. So, here it goes.
The Whispers Of the St. Johns: A poem by Al Emerick:
Careful are the whispers of the St. Johns as she drifts by me asking that I recognize her. Her magic calls to me often in the midst of my morning and evening runs, bikes, and walks. I feel compelled to listen and am drawn into deep conversation; though I feel it is she who listens more than I. For no matter what I say, she cares only that I speak to her. So busy is she with her daily routine, yet somehow, I know she hears me. Her cadence remains unwavering as she navigates the ebb and flow of her burden in a northern direction challenging the path of nautical normalcy. From sunrise to sunset and into the darkness, her unmistakable natural beauty is made even more irresistible by the changing landscape which casts it light from all directions. Hues of blue, red, yellow, gold, grey, white, and green find their way into our conversations, yet never interrupt; only enhancing the deeper meaning of our time together. What of the end to our conversation? There is none, for the discussion continues. She knows I will return and I know she will always be there. And so we carry on knowing there is more to be said, more to be shared, and no matter what, we will be there for each other; me to talk, her to listen, and both of us to strengthen the bond of friendship amidst the Whispers of the St. Johns.