River

There is a river. 

I awake with this thought in my head, and these words on my lips. 

"There is a river."

I rush over to my soulmate's room, ready to show her what we will find together, a river that will lead to a living, thriving, paradise. I sense a kind of barrier to proceeding, however, and walk just past her door to speak a poem in the direction that we will go. 

"Please accept us, LORD

It is your heart that we seek 

Your road we walk on

Your river calls us 

I already know the one

But not this makeup

Search my every word

Know that my heart is for you

Grade as you see fit

A measuring stick

A pair of bright eyed soulmates

A destination

There is a river

We will find our way to it 

To those you have sent

Fathom by fathom

Drawn into eternity

On wish and prayer

I wish this is real

I pray that you see my heart

Keep guiding my steps

Close to paradise

I will listen for your words

And read them anew."

I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn. My soulmate stands with bright eyes welling with tears, and a wide smile. "You said that you would put your whole heart into this, and this is a wonderful start. I am with you."

I resist the urge to look down at my feet and kick an imaginary pebble. Instead, I look her right in the eye and say "When I say your name, it is both prayer and amen."

Her jaw drops and she blushes and looks away. Then she laughs genuinely "Even though it sounds like a frog croaking every time?"

"Especially because it sounds like a frog croaking every time!"

She laughs, and with the tension cut we proceed hand in hand, in the direction I had spoken, to find the river that flows, ever stronger in my mind as time passes.

We emerge from an unassuming door at the top of a hill, with eep once again providing a storage shed as an exit point. I chuckle at the consistency, seemingly regardless of the page. To the side is a trickle of water, babbling past the front of the shed down the hill. I pull out my handy measuring stick, receiving a giggle and jokingly suspicious squint from my companion. With that, we're off! 

I do my best to convert cubits to feet. I feel woefully inadequate, but also like there is not much pressure on our side of the river to make it perfect. I get this welling sense of joy that the attempt in good faith can be shaped into perfection, once all is completed. My companion shifts a few times from being mesmerized by the measuring process to goofing off and trying to get me to lose track of what I'm doing. My focus is strong, however, even split between her antics and the river. At about the right distance, we cross, in ankle-deep water. 

"A thought has been on my mind." I offer, as topic of conversation as we continue. "How does one who is omniscient believe anything? How could one who is omnipotent be restricted from believing?" She stops in her tracks for a second, as if struck by the idea. I continue measuring off distance with my stick, and she soon catches up. "I feel like omniscience and omnipotence must make a lot more sense from their own perspective. Perhaps on some level it is the lack of these things in mankind that causes wonder in God. I feel as though the answer is intimately tied up with Jesus as both human and God, with power and knowledge necessarily limited in some way by form, but I cannot provide an answer myself." Before I have a chance to respond, it is time to cross the river again, with the water now knee-deep. 

My stomach fills with butterflies at the impending sense of completion on this journey. My companion is largely silent, though she occasionally points out something of interest on the riverbank, usually with a giggle. I follow her lead and let scholarly questions fall to the back of my mind, remaining present on this journey and its small wonders. When the time comes to cross, the water is up to my waist, which is measurably higher for her. "Hop on!" I bend over slightly to make it clear that I am offering her a piggyback ride. She smiles widely and jumps on my back, giving me a big hug in the form of a squeeze before adjusting into a suitable riding position. We cross the river one more time. 

Now my heart is pounding. I know the journey is nearly at an end, but the possibilities that await us take over my thought process. My soulmate simply takes hold of my free hand, as I subconsciously count the measures along. About halfway down this stretch, a river of equal size and strength merges with our own. I am astounded, though realize that our humble storage shed was no temple. When the rivers have fully merged I can see all the way across, and spot two men walking at just about our pace, and they appear to be measuring all the same. The sound of the river prevents me from hearing them, but I imagine that they have seen us as well, now. When we get to the end of the measurements I pause, along with my soulmate. The men on the other side of the river stop as well,  and seem to start talking with one another. My soulmate already knows what to expect from me in this moment, it seems, and she watches me starry eyed as I prepare to commemorate this encounter with a poem. 

"Dance and walk like you know that I will watch

My affinity for you only grows

May this measuring stick gain an etched notch

To remember the river that here flows

You, as well, flow like a river in song

Be it words or steps, know that I see it

I pray that we've been fated all along

Meeting by the mouth, as you have seen fit

May this journey of love ne'er see an end

May you find joy in the words that I add

May this book be a monument, my friend

May our days be the best you've ever had

All of these hopes, I do pray here and now

For a time, taking my leave with a bow."

My soulmate hugs me as I finish my words, not letting go for a time. It seems she does not want these words, or our time together, to come to an end. I plan for our particular moment to last forever, however, when it is time for it to fully begin. The men then begin to walk away, perhaps having never heard me at all, but it feels as though my words have landed,  nonetheless. It also feels certain that they saw us this time. My soulmate squeezes my hand, reminding me that we planned to go a bit farther. 

We continue down the riverbank, as our surroundings seem to morph. It is not an unpleasant morphing, more like a simple recalibration of realms, journeys, and destinations, to fit with the story at hand. "I am so glad that you are on this journey with me. You feel like an extension of myself, independent yet as comfortable as my own skin." She simply squeezes my hand in the fog that has surrounded us here, reassuring me that she is with me. I can still hear the river, though I can no longer see or measure it now. I angle my footsteps to keep us within range of its flow. After an uncertain amount of time, I sense part of the trunk of a huge tree to our other side. Our journey passes us through the middle of this trunk, with the river flowing through the tree as well. It is unclear how wide the river is now, but the tree must be massive. Several more steps and the fog begins to clear, apparently not encroaching far into this tree. Several more steps and I look across the river once more, somehow able to see in a place that probably should be dark. Something about this tree bursts with life, and feels like a home long since forgotten. The many painful years of my life start to fall from me like leaves in Autumn, but the memory remains. My soulmate, too, seems positively effected by this wondrous leg of the journey, but in her own way. The sun is shining on the other side of the tree, just beyond the hollow. As we emerge there is a peace and a joy, and even the colors here feel more vibrant. 

"It is paradise." We lean into each other for a kiss, the first of many in our newfound and shared home. The path remains; the pages remain; eep remains. Perhaps one day we will revisit them. For now, however, we are home.