By The River Piedra I Sat Down & Wept

I gazed at the River Piedra all afternoon. The woman brought us sandwiches and wine, commented on the weather, and left us alone. Every once in a while, he paused in his reading and stared out into space, absorbed in his thoughts.

At one point I went for a walk in the woods, past the small waterfalls, through the landscape that was so laden with stories and meanings for me. When the sun began to set, I went back to the place where I had left him.

'Thank you' was what he said as he gave the papers back to me. 'And forgive me.'

On the bank of the River Piedra, I sat down and wept.

'Your love has saved me and returned me to my dream,' he continued.

I said nothing.

'Do you know Psalm 137?' he asked.

I shook my head. I was afraid to speak.

'On the banks of the rivers of Babylon…'

'Yes, yes, I know it,' I said, feeling myself coming back to life, little by little. 'It talks about exile. It talks about people who hang up their harps because they cannot play the music their hearts desire.'

'But after the psalmist cries with longing for the land of his dreams, he promises himself,

If I forget you, O Jerusalem,

let my right hand forget its skill.

Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth,

if I do not exalt Jerusalem.'

I smiled again.

'I had forgotten, and you brought it back to me.'

'Do you think your gift has returned?' I asked.

'I don't know. But the Goddess has always given me a second chance in life. And She is giving me that with you. She will help me to find my path again.'

'Our path.'

'Yes, ours.'

He took my hands and lifted me to my feet.

'Go and get your things,' he said. 'Dreams mean work.'

END