a river poem (about the ever-changing stream of being)

Grief is the slow river,

eddying out

behind sticks

and old memories.

Sorrow, misty rain.

Anxiety moves the choppy water faster.

Anger—Flash-flood tidal wave! Speeding ahead.

Fear dives under deck, do not look. Sea monsters abound!

Compassion, “And it’s OK,” slowing the river, dispersing demons.

Joy riding the rushing rapids as they arise, eyes wide open!

Old habit patterns (and addiction), eyes pinched tight, out on dry river bank, thirsty.

Courage first one little pinky-toe back in the water, great!

Acceptance eddying out with the grief sticks, tending the flash flooders, deck-divers, joy-riders, and thirsty pinched-eyes-tighters, all while riding misty waves with one-hearted joy-sorrow.

“And it’s OK.”

Two toes back in the water now. Soon three.

Equanimitythe river in full flourish . . .

. . . here slowness swirling . . .

. . . now raining sea demons and skeletons! . . . 

. . . here calm wavelets lapping . . .

. . . now wild, choppy-wave chaos! . . .

. . .here, ecstasy and delight! . . .

. . . now soft sorrow . . .

Makes no difference to the water.





PHOTO CREDIT: David Brooke Martin