Sheila's Crossing ( the Poem)

Sheila’s Crossing

Pass behind us, descent beginning, river’s started, creek moves with us swelling downward, trail companions.
Other hikers walked before us, felt the current and the shiver, told the tale with all the trimmings.
Months ago we knew that Crossing, what to do and how to think.
Up above we practiced crossings, in our minds and with wet feet.
We’ve done the dance steps with the river in our dreams. Sheila’s crossing, down ahead.
Finally at river’s turning, current deepens, river’s speaking, we are listening, river’s song and river’s warning.
Rocky bottom is our pathway, wet and slippery, unsure footing, murky surface on the water.
Shiela’s dread is there before us, other passage not an option.


There, in River, flat and close, are boulders for us, dry and welcome.
Someone’s put them in our path and for our crossing, poles for balance, we can cross here!
Michael leads, the first one stepping, 10 more rocks and he is over, other side with camera out.
Sheila steps on flat ones first, only one is wet or sloping. My turn next, we’re off, above the river.
Then, she’s made it, screaming, yelling, arms are flying, safe across and glancing back.
Ahead, her smile means crossing’s over, far bank’s welcome, trial is done.
Feet on land, with meadow’s flowers, now we’re here and safely, too.
Boulders help has made it happen, now we’re dry and we continue.
We’ve embraced the river’s challenge, we are changed forever, each and all.
Trail companions, dread has shaped us, made us partners, somehow different, River tempered metal there.