THE RIVER TRIGIDOR

Rills flow from the Trigidor
A quiet river of hope
As the Morona of Ecuador
Water follows the slope

Meandering forever to the sea
As snow on the mountain adorns
It’s the cycle of life you see
Whatever dies is reborn

Rivers carry mountains away
Reduce them to silt and to sand
Green foliage springs up in May
Dying at winter’s cold hand

From a mountain fertile land is made
The sun warms it before the night
From it springs the green grass blade
Covering all the land in sight

©Copyright September 29, 2007 by Terry D. Sutherland