Hola Friends ~
I’m recently back from a long hike through the North Cascades, near my home in NW Washington, which was a wondrous day out. One of the pictures I took, which I’ll attach below, is of my buddy Zach filling his water bottle, and it prompted this poem, also below.
I’ve been writing a lot of poetry, deeply appreciating what feels to me are its alchemical properties. I’m strongly considering making some of them into a little book. I will let you know, of course.
Thanks, love and do be in touch! even if you haven’t reached out before.
How water forms
Is a love story.
Don’t be fooled by anyone
Telling you otherwise.
It’s the air,
Sentient but not yet empassioned
For the earth, creating first
Something to be thirsty for.
And then, o night’s end!
It seeps through cracks
And falls from the sky and storms
Down any low place it can find.
Those low places.
The ones where your heart
Is so broken and your throat swells but
Does not release
Its song.
You do not find water without
Finding your own thirst —
That’s a gift.
The sky opens.
The silence that follows is unutterable.
The quiet reflection, the rustle of
Your own body in her own leaning,
Falling, moving toward.
— LB