Winifred Welles imagines a lifetime as a river speaking in the first person. At first the river feels immense with spring-like hope, but by noon it has become weary and stalled, and by autumn it mourns its lost magnificence, muttering among white foam like an aging voice before sinking into indifference. There is no going back, and the speaker accepts that onward is best. Even as the river stays close to the dark earth, it carries the sky’s mark in its breast and a star’s shadow on its face, moving toward something final. That destination is death—“the beautiful and bitter sea.” The mood is elegiac and resigned, yet touched by wonder: mortality feels like both a wearing down and a strange, luminous return, a loss of energy that becomes a sorrowful release.
Lifetime — Summary
I am the river, I have been immense With hope, great as the inner heart of spring- The reeds have huddled to my whimpering Amid the noon-time's staleness and suspense. Between the ruins of magnificence. Stained and autumnal, mournfully I sing, And then among my white beards muttering Grow old, and sleep into indifference.
I have no returning, onward is best. Close to the dark, sweet earth in every place. But with the sky's mark hidden in my breast. And a star's shadow falling on my face. Where shining spaces wait to fill with me, Death is the beautiful and bitter sea.