From where I stand
I can see the way it flows and curves
hugging the banks on either side
rumbles over rocks and boulders
into a foamy white chaos that breaks branches and logs and
bones
before it eventually smooths out once more
surface barely rippling
so clear you can see the bed far below as if it were just an
inch deep
fish swimming down and
up
stream and hiding
in the roots of things that once grew
that now rots as things grow upon it
I can see where it widens
full of promise and
where it slips down into a
trickle
so small it is in danger of being swallowed
whole
by the parched earth until
rain
falls from the sky like a
savior
replenishing its soul
From where I stand
it is all behind me
not before
I can see it grow longer with each taken
step
like the shadow growing from my feet
I face unknown terrain
not yet broken down by the
erosion
we cannot control but will one day map the history of
where we have been
how we have lived.