Memories of Water
The creek had always sung its song,
A gentle hymn through shale and stone,
Past porches worn by generations,
Past fields our people called their own.
It carried tales of springtime rains,
Of minnows darting clear and free,
But no one heard the warning hidden
Within that old familiar key.
The clouds came low as mourning veils,
They gathered where the ridges meet,
Till heaven loosed an endless sorrow
Upon the hollers at our feet.
The branches bent beneath the weight,
The hills let loose their muddy tears;
The streams we trusted all our lives
Became the sum of ancient fears.
A front porch drifted down the road.
A mailbox sailed like autumn leaves.
The church bell echoed through the valley,
Calling prayers no tongue believes.
The mountains could not run away;
They stood and watched with silent grace,
As water climbed the courthouse steps
And washed the color from each face.
Neighbors launched their jon boats early,
With flashlights cutting through the rain.
No one asked who owned the blankets—
Only who was cold or in pain.
Hands reached out through broken windows.
Strangers carried strangers home.
Coffee brewed on borrowed burners;
No grieving soul was left alone.
When daylight finally found the valley,
It scarcely knew the place at all.
Mud wrote its name on every doorway,
Silence answered every call.
Yet in the wreckage, flowers waited,
Their roots still deep beneath the clay.
The mountains whispered, “Keep on standing.
This darkness, too, will pass away.”
For those who live where ridges cradle
Homes built strong by hope and grace
Know rivers sometimes break their promises,
But never break a mountain race.
The water took what cannot be counted,
Photographs and years gone by;
Yet it could never steal the spirit
That keeps these ancient hills alive.
So when the creeks begin their singing
And thunder gathers overhead,
We’ll bow our heads, remember mercy,
And honor all the tears we’ve shed.
For every flood leaves more than ruin—
It leaves the proof, when all is done,
That hearts forged hard beneath these mountains
Still rise together, one by one.
