easter weekend – beforeand after autumn rainwe walked the fern paththe damp underfoot paththe deep tree shadeblue sky raven paththat flows along the riverclimbs slowly until the quiet deepbecomes the flow rush through river grass,marimbas smooth over rocks,dashes pool to pooluntil birdsong becomes the river calling loudlyas it falls white water to dark pools. we…
coming home in the night the river still flows dark under that quiet dream sky and we fall to that flow as we fall to sleep and the water reclaims us fin and gill and speaks us silver ripple and quiet splash to the trees. if there was a long night it was dark and…
and sometimes the world sighs a moment – floats pink petals on dark water that flows slow-deep beneath old forest boughs heavy in bloom.
if the river god spoke my name would she speak this light on water, this unquenchable thirst, this longing to be submerged – hair river-weed to the tide, the call of the ocean stretching my lungs, pulsing my ears, calling us home water, sand bone and blood. would she take this laughter that rises silver…
in the dark of the water deep among shards of light i swim the softing tide – thrum of river quenching my skin, playing my bones deer flute to the forest sky.
in the heart of my beloved flows a river. steadily steadily i row this infinite flow. in the heart of my beloved grows a tree gently gently i rest.