River Views

— Barbara Drake
— Marilyn Myerson

“Not again,” sighs the river. There on my banks sits a woman crying. “Do not dismay,” I ripple, even though my only listeners are the fish that swim my currents. Ages of women’s tears are in the waterway in front of you. I am the same water as the Nile that holds Cleopatra’s sorrow; her tears were shed when her lover died in her arms. Listen to my liquid bow play a eulogy.

I carry drops from the Seine that were shed for the brave peasant women, Joan of Arc; she led the French Army to victory, only to be executed for her refusal to submit to the will and rules of earthly men. Watch my waters rise in protest.

I flow with knowledge of the fictional Anna Karenina. My waters of the Ural have meandering tributaries that idolize the snow filled banks, unaware of avalanches that will overcome my breadth and depth. My flooding waters warn you to protect yourself from being a vessel for other’s expectations .

Great tears of sadness formed clouds above my shores when my Pacific waters helplessly witnessed the horrifying misfortune of a pioneering aviator making history for women. Amelia vanished as the world watched, listened and waited. My dark waters invite those seeking answers.

My waters from the River Lee christened Mary Jones in her birthplace of Cork. Ocean waters brought her to another continent. You can hear white rapids roar her words imploring leaders to care for children, families and miners.

Tired of suffering the delta’s segregational sediment, Rosa refused to relinquish her seat on a bus. She did not know how fast my waters would create a movement for change.

Justice and fortitude were the oars Ruth used to navigate the murky Potomac.

I am an eternal reservoir of women’s sorrows, bravery, and ambition, but I am also a giver of life.

I carry poets’ words to comfort you. You settled here for a reason. Listen to the babble. Let the Rivers’ waters provide nurturing and fortification of your soul, dear. Know that:

The teardrop on your eyelash was once the frost on an Arctic hare’s whiskers, a creature who has the ability to live its life in a complex web of a very inhospitable place.

You share droplets from the massive Amazon that provides life for a very diverse rain forest.

Your sob comes from an oasis of healing longevity from the ancient Finke.

You carry the essence of the Cano Cristales that creates a rippling rainbow of beauty for your reflection.

My rivers and waters have saved homes, forests and people from fire.

The rivers have christened babies, and provided sustenance to the lilacs in the fields. Let our waters renew you. Your life is long and may hold many disappointments. Find us, in the stars that are reflected in rivers and lakes. Look for the rainbow our reedy waters feed. We are here for you, your constant friends through time.

Winnie had a complicated life — born from a rain cloud, christened water droplet number 800,762,153, etc., etc., Winnie for short.She joined up with her sisters and brothers as they fell upon the earth, bringing lifesaving sustenance to the dry fields. Winnie happened to fall into a puddle where the farm animals splashed and drank. Next thing she knew, she was in a horse’s body and then joined her cousins and aunts and uncles as Bobbin the horse sprayed the ground with his momentous stream of pee, back into the puddle. More rain and the puddle expanded and found its way to the edge of the field where the ground slanted and the water trickled into a creek. With more rain, the creek swelled; Winnie and her companions soon joined up with other water drops from neighbouring creeks and they flowed on to become a larger stream. More rain, more saturated earth, more streams and eventually a confluence of travelling water, wide enough to become a river. A tributary river, eventually to join others and become a mighty flowing rush …

Next thing Winnie knew, she and her buddies evaporated back into the sky, and became clouds. Soft, puffy, cottony clouds, eventually concentrating into big, dark clouds with the loud thunder of the gods, issuing drenching rains back onto earth.

Winnie underwent this cycle untold numbers of times. When things were quiet, she liked to regale her companions with stories of her times on earth. She was especially fond of her days when river otters would splash and frolic with her. Her brother Clive liked to recount the tales of his turns in the raging rapids of rafting rivers. And everyone was in awe of Alice’s adventures over Niagara Falls. Heart-stopping, she called it.

“What’s your favourite river?” Winnie asked Sheila, who was shy and not apt to talk unless called upon. “Oh,” she murmured quietly, “I liked being in the Columbia when they were panning for gold. The sun shining on the gold was so amazing.”

No one knew where they’d be travelling next, but they all looked forward to getting their kicks as they’d eventually ride a torrential rainstorm into an overflowing river or rejoice to just meander leisurely down a lazy steam. And at some point, they’d find themselves in a boundless ocean, waiting their chance to return to the endless sky.

Barbara Drake arrived in Tampa in the early 1970’s to attend college. Due to her interest in facilitating communication abilities for those who experience limitations, she studed Speech Pathology. As a strong advocate of language as the essential force that connects people, she is grateful to OLLI and her fellow members for fostering opportunities for seniors to stay connected as well as offering a variety of learning experiences. She believes in treating your friends like it will be the last time you see them, and treating education as if it will never end.

Marilyn Myerson, Ph. D, Philosophy, has learned to take nothing for granted and to embrace the power of whimsy. Marilyn was the first outside hire in what is now the USF Department of Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, starting in 1973, when it was just one year old. She was an administrator at various departmental and deans’ levels before her retirement as Emeritus faculty in 2010. She shepherded the Human Sexual Behavior class through its many incarnations, developed the original women’s health classes, and taught feminist research methods. She is happily involved with OLLI-USF, having taken painting and writing courses. She created and frequently teaches Imaginative Writing classes and facilitates the Imaginative Crew and several other writing groups.