…like the moods of a woman

The river runs like the moods of woman
fickle, ever changing, never predictable
and the surface never reveals what is hidden below
you only ever see what she wants you to see
unless the turmoil is so great that it cannot be disguised
she is seemingly tranquil, but troubled beneath
achingly beautiful, but she is hiding immeasurable darkness
teeming with life, while death, ever present
stalks her depths, disguised in a summer dress
she is all the colours of the rainbow
and black as night, glassy and still
she waits for the right moment with stalking, evil intent
able to take your breath away
you can never possess her, nor be a part of her
for she cannot be held, she decides if you stay afloat
or drown within her silken embrace
she rules her own destiny
she can give pleasure if she chooses
or misery can be the game, dependent on her whim
no reason, no design, throwing the dice with abandon
consequences not an issue
you can live beside her, ride upon her currents
even dive within her if you dare
she may let you experience, her pleasure or her pain
she may deny you if she chooses
for she is powerful and vulnerable, in ways you cannot know
she can be destroyed , unthinkingly
she can rise up in vengeance and she can rest in peace
life thrives within her
she is a mother, producing life, protecting it from predators
terrible in defence of what is hers
nurturing and giving, she is ever watchful
and she can cast you out
leave you wracked with pain, striving for breath
embrace you for a moment
take you within for all eternity
she can be the love of a lifetime, a partner in all things
she can be the reason you rise and the reason you fall
bring you to your knees, for love of her, or pain
beauty is around her, everywhere
distracting and enlivening, always incomparable
but never forget that it is a disguise
and never disregard, what lies behind the mask
© Ann Bagnall