Water Music I

You flow, you do not understand, The spring has eked you out of the earth. You fell from the storm, you barely coalesce Before the journey begins.

A gust of wind from a cloud’s dead eye Blows you onto the clay of the north. A pond, where the spawn of a million frogs Grope in the steam of batrachian suns.

At the end, a hesitant stream. Gentle, the grass barely parts in your path. By noon, you lay blind in the sun’s deep maw. You fear you are the plaything of the world, A god whose cruelty is your solitude.

You flow, you do not understand, You cannot feel your strength. The folly of your winding way. The reeds, the dust of limestone on your breath, The way you break abandoned dams.

You do not feel your thrust against the shore, The promise of your speed, the way the earth Indents beneath your touch. Do you know you are going south? How far you have come you cannot comprehend. You do not know who awaits you.