Separating
a single rain drop
from the river.
Finding that one,
that singularity.
Thunderstorm
hammers upon the mountain,
like a breaking wave,
making one thing
become another.
Clear mountain stream
splits the gorge.
Rolling down
until the rock yields
high waterfalls
and canyon rapids.
Known the sky,
and the fall,
and the heights.
Been rain,
been hail,
been snow,
but become cascading
white water rainbows
into the valley,
forest green,
or desert brown.
Wind the long,
ancient snake along.
Cut though everything;
granite,
bedrock,
sandstone,
history.
Come a long way.
Turbulent chaos
yields to the plains.
Roil and tumble,
become slow,
lazy meander,
with no less power.
By now,
wide, deep, and ancient.
Slide past all
the great cities of the world,
until
the land ends,
and there it is,
the open arms
and welcoming kiss
of the delta.
Out into that wild blue.
That green,
that black,
that fearful grey.
Everything from
the first fall from Heaven,
to swelling and receding
in that final destination.
Freedom,
harmony,
boundless chaos
hemmed in
by some older order.
Every step of the way,
connecting,
transmitting,
dispersing
the knowledge of the journey home.
Rise up again
into the broad sky.
The cycle of all life
in one drop of water.
HG – 2022
