The Republican River

I heard about the legend from before the dawn of man. When through the river valley giants roamed the land. They came, they saw, they conquered. They defied the gods above. They tried to tame the river, stood proud in the mud. ’Til the rains came. I smelled the dust storm comin’ ‘fore I saw the red sun rise. ‘Twas the blackest Sunday morning nineteen thirty-five. I wondered what we had done, was this God or the devil's plan? Dust so thick it filled our lungs, we’s drowning on dry land. ’Til the rains came. They said the worst was over, but the worst was yet to come. Every drop we’d prayed for together came as one. I watched the waters rising, we held on for our dear lives. A mother’s grip is no match for rivers gone mad. They said the crops would follow if machines replaced the plow. ‘Cause man can change the weather tearing up the ground. We made those metal monsters, never hungry, never tired. Cultivated disaster with progress and pride. ‘Til the rains came. How did this stream break its banks like a fever in the night? Tamarisk and olive trees choked that river dry. We push too hard and take too much, will we ever heed the call? When the water rises up even giants fall.