Replenished
Nov 28 2008


Standing on the bank
knee-deep,
in the thick brambles that grow in sand
and make the edge impassable,
you try to understand this river.
Is it the same,
this landmark
cut into earth’s hard granite,
its surface calm
as you squint
at your thin wavering reflection?
Or does it change
from second to second,
its water continuously refreshed?

You watch it go by,
from the headwaters, that give rise
to lost at sea —
where its molecules
are indistinguishable.
And you think of your own body
mostly water
renewing itself,
every cell made new
as you move through time.
And the ghost in the machine
that is you.

The current riffles the surface,
pillows up-stream of rocks.
A stone gets tossed
rippling out,
until the river quickly resumes.
The soothing sound of moving water
you can’t imagine stopped.