The Fragrance of Cold Water

The Fragrance of Cold Water

On the south side of the river where the water meets the bank
There’s a path between the bushes every autumn
If you go there in the morning when everything is damp
The air carries the fragrance of cold water

There are sapphires floating by and little bits of gold
You roll your sleeve, reach in and try to stop them
But again as in each day the water’s way too cold
Your hands are froze before they hit the bottom

Something tells you not to take those gems away
You don’t need them anyhow, it doesn’t matter
And you wouldn’t want to tamper with perfection anyway
The beautiful river of cold water

The fish are indifferent to the value of the stones
They wouldn’t own a gem even if they could
For what is a precious stone to a fish without a home
On a journey down the river through the woods

Grandpa and I sailed in a wooden boat
And let the stream determine where we landed
We found a secret valley with flowers overgrown
With ponds and waterfalls of crystal candy

This must be where the river makes its summer home
And rests before it tends to other matters
In the grandeur of the moment we docked our wooden boat
And savored the fragrance of cold water

On the south side of the river where the water meets the bank
There’s a path between the bushes every autumn
If you go there in the morning when everything is damp
The air carries the fragrance of cold water