Upstream
From the mouth of this river
I can see forever.
But just to see it
is not to know
the gifts it
can bring
me.
Downstream
From here I see what has past
from early dawn to dusk,
meandering stream
of hearts and minds
too broken
not to
feel.
Midstream
From here I can see the moon,
in all her bright glory.
But still I can’t see
what direction
this bright stream
will go
next.
Half-mast
Is it high or is it low?
Starboard bow or portside?
How are we to know
which direction
we are be’ng
led to
go?
Solitary
Here I sit in places, still,
with rhythms full of grace.
An occupied peace
and quiet voice
that summons
me to
stay.