The River Rat

They called me River Rat in the heat of July

Brown limbs in the current, dragonflies passing by

Sun on the water and mud on my feet

I learned the river’s breathing before I learned the street

When the school bells sharpened and the cruel words came

I slipped through the hedgerow and vanished from my name

Wove my body through branches where no eye could see

And the green held its silence like a promise over me

I closed my eyes to darkness

And let the water keep

What I could not carry waking

The river carried deep

I was called the River Rat

Floating where the wild things knew

Current at my back

And sky I never had to see through

The water held my weight

When the world would not make room

I learned to trust the dark

And drift my way through doom

Sometimes I’d wake from dreaming miles farther downstream

Walking home barefoot through dusk as if stepping from a dream

The bugs sang in the grasses, but I hardly felt their sting

Safety was a deeper hunger than comfort ever brings

The woods knew all my hiding

The herons knew my face

Fox tracks in the shallows

Taught me something fierce was grace

And every silent creature

That never asked me why

Helped keep a small flame breathing

I thought would surely die

I was the River Rat

Floating where the wild things knew

Current at my back

And a sky I never needed to see through

The water held my weight

When the world would not make room

I learned to trust the dark

And drift my way through doom

Now when I offer shelter

Or sing somebody through fear

It’s the old river moving

Still whispering in my ear

Not every shield is iron

Not every strength is loud

Some are made of yielding

And not fighting every cloud

I was the River Rat

Child of branch and breathing stream

Current taught me how

To survive inside a living dream

And what the water held

I carry in me still

A heart that learned in drifting

How to bend and keep its will

Call me River Rat

I’ll answer with a smile

I was being carried home

All the while