the river

  on the banks of the Rio Grande in New Mexico and Texas, September 2023

shallow and so muddy
one could almost
walk across it on the silt
yet each molecule, each droplet
flows inexorably and imperceptibly on
merging with others
in a confluence of current
that pushes and pulls
faster and fiercer

eventually it becomes a barrier
keeping desperate people at bay
people who risk its churning
dying to get across

we may build walls
station sentries and dogs
separating chaff from wheat
if only we knew which was whom 

perhaps we could pray more
fear less and call on angels
to guard the garden
with flaming swords
though all of us are scarred
and should be banished to Nod 

but in God’s mercy
road weary
we’re invited
to walk on water again

Liz McFadzean

“We hate the theys, but who are they but we?"                 
      River Jordan, Confessions of a Christian Mystic

“We are stardust, we are golden
we are caught in the devil’s bargain
and we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.”   Joni Mitchell, Woodstock