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The River

I walked a narrow path making footprints in the sand
near that fabled river known by most as Rio Grande.
Strewn along were Wal Mart bags; clothes hanging on some brush
telling of a swimmer who left there in a rush.

What drives a man to leave his land and gain the other side
only to be caught again and taken for that ride
back across the river. Back to try again.
anything to get across to another land?

Terrorist or traffiker? Worker on a farm?
Are his actions honorable? Cause for great alarm?
We have no way of knowing, but the game goes on
Clever ones find out the tricks and they are quickly gone.

Gentle birds from Mexico cross most every day
Bringing colors in the sky of yellow, green or grey.
We welcome them and spread the word whenever they appear.
but birds of a much larger kin we may have cause to fear.

What would I do if over there? I guess it may sound funny,
but probably I'd seek to find the land of milk and honey.
Seeking freedom, hope and dreams resides in every man.
So some continue every night to swim the Rio Grande.

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on January 23, 2008 5:46 AM.

The previous post in this blog was Pastor Emeritus.

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