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Downriver
I take a trip downriver.
The water is clear.
I see pebbles and cobbles
Beneath a calm facade.
Down I drop and soon
The water turns to glass.
I realize I’m out of my depth
And in vain try to reach shore.
The water turns white and frothy
Like saliva from a horse run to death.
Where there isn’t white, only black
Reflecting a hopeless fear.
The roar of white water against
A silent bed of black rock is deafening.
I come to a place where everything
Drops away and when its bottom
Comes rushing up I go under.
I lose myself somewhere down there
And only parts of me make it back.
I strive to put myself back together
But the puzzle is always incomplete.
These are my thoughts as I inhale water
And suddenly come to and spit it back.
Now back ashore and dry again
I realize I’ve lost not a thing.
I have only found something new
And it is time to make room.
