river

once you hear the trickle

you can’t help but look for it

sparkling through the tall grass

breezes cool the edges

shimmering the shore

boulders that shadow

pathways of skimmers

dashing minnows trace and

sway, in pebbled forests

that shade low cauldrons

cold, where tadpoles shelter

at noon. Together,

we’ll sleep in the stones.

grab one and throw it!

the dance, interrupted—

ripples roll out madly

like laughter in a field.

my river wanders on,

from energy and constancy

from cycles, sun, and gravity

from the movement of water

even in winter.  Entranced

by it all: cloud-white mountain

down rain and soil tapestry

weaving this path

flowing home.