Poem for the Guadalupe River from a previous Mystic camper

I remember the river, 
            flowing so peacefully and slowly you could almost miss its motion
I remember the river,
            mirroring the vastness of the starry sky stretched far beyond the nestled valley
I remember the river, 
            with its deep, dreamy green reflecting neighboring, billowing trees 
I remember the river,
            offering its soft morning mist to accompany you at dawn’s asking 
I remember the river, 
            the smell of moist algae below with crisp cypress wisping just above
I remember the river, 
            the way it carried our laughter as we floated along

I remember the river
            how it felt like a silent companion and always gentle guide
            how it felt timeless, ever present and patiently waiting for our return

I remember singing “Peace, I ask of thee oh river, peace, peace, peace”

I remember learning of having more, while others have not
I remember learning of how easy it was to turn away, while others have no choice

I remember the river
And I don’t think the river remembers me
I don’t think the river remembers at all, but I think she invites
Invites us to be thankful that the gift has been given
The gift that seemed ours for a time, at a time that was beautiful 
And at this time, it is our turn to let go

Each gift, each life, not even ours our own

I remember the river, though I cannot understand her
I remember the river, and as I do, I feel her too
I remember the river, and I ask of her, “peace, peace, peace”