(written on Sunday, July 8, 2007; immediately after “time plays no reverse”)
Where river cuts its bend
through solid rock
lifted by land’s rise
there is no turning back
to primal where or when.
No tale of comfort to be told.
In the irrepressible re-mattering
Nature harshly disgraces.
We may stand at canyon’s edge
hand in hand for a time
keeping our promises
when all seems still
beneath our feet.
But the completion we feel is ours
is just a momentary dream
in the time of rushing water
through rock.
