Be Like Water

I want to go where the river flows.

From mist hidden beginnings,

Down through hunchbacked dales,

Rolling alongside coppiced trees,

Splitting into streams meandering beneath,

Beneath the canopies of ancient forests.

Courting forgotten paths and byways,

Rushing under bridges built by Empire.

Bypassing brackish waters, rinsing pebble and rock.

Trickling by grassy knoll and cattle munched pastures,

Skimming fishermen’s muddy prints, 

Then erasing sandy steps of those lost, not wanting 

to be found, on the way,

The way to meet and blend with the sea and know its depth,

But linger there, not, but to precipitate from its waves.

Yearning to be that final drop that puts a pin in bulging rain clouds, 

Bursting atop mist capped peaks, to be reborn in the river.

To journey what the river knows, where the river flows,

Is the place I want, need to be.