Tag Archives: Water

The river

 

The river
Runs rolls rumbles tumbles tosses
Yesterday it was just a creek
The rains have swelled it
This is why
The banks are so broad
The usual pebbly islands sunk
Redrawn rewritten redrafted
Underneath the water
Unseen
Beneath the roiling muck
The river rewrites itself
With every passing rain cloud
It changes who it is
It carries garbage further away
It carries new garbage in
It fills new puddles
To fill with new frogs
And new adventures
Because it chose
To flow where the water wants.
It allows life
To alter its bones.
It doesn’t resist.
It relaxes into chaos,
Falls in, falls out.
It dries to emptiness,
Floods to new paths.
It bends.
That is why
The river is forever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Still in England

 

Look at how pretty it is here. This is in Canterbury. We saw an eel down there! 

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Funny, most people blog about their travels. Guess I’m backwards. I’ll tell some stories about it when I get back. Until then, I probably won’t blog again until Wednesday or so. Am cheap. Limited Internet access.

It’s 1:30am here so I gotta go to bed but I just wanted to let everyone know I’m still alive!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Inside a glass of water

Thin wet wormy spiral
Color mixing in thready dissolution
It lands at the base of the glass
Still heavy with momentum
And spreads
A loose puddle
There is no place like the world
Inside a glass of water.
Rules are different there.
Things bend without breaking
Moisture saves anything
Moisture ruins everything
Insinuates from the outside
Desolidifies
Dissolves
Until everything
Is just water again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Dip into creativity

 

Dip into creativity
A deep black well
Creatures run deep
Under the glassy still water.
Just a cup is all you need
Look close and see
Tadpoles, minnows, miraculous life
Crayfish, seaweed, plankton, krill.
Swirling alive
Unfathomable life.
Sometimes you can catch a big fish
But content yourself with minnows.
Even these
Some cannot catch.
Even these are a boon.
Lucky, lucky, lucky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

One Bird

 

One minute left
To breathe
One stream trickling away from the desert.
One bird lands to sip
Delicately, as birds will
Beakful by beakful
The sweet cool water
Life giving, nourishing.
And then with ten powerful thrusts of his wings
He is again aloft
Looking for something
Only he knows.
One bird in the sky
One story
And not much at all to tell.
But to him
It is the only story that matters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

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