It flows
over highwaysdripping down
lamp-posts
through gutters,
pounding
storm drains,
filling
narrow lanes,
past dark houses,
past high-tension
wires, driving
through
constraining fence,
unfettered
it fills
the green hills
and rolls
through folding slough, past
low bridge and causeway,
ever lower
down to Suisun Bay,
unstoppable
like a swimmer’s blood
pulsing through throbbing vein,
reaching for Gate of Gold
to break free,
to become
one with
One.
(19 April 2011)
Whew, becoming one seems a watery deal, a birth canal overflowing. Interesting that to become One, one must break free.
ReplyDeleteVery like what we had here yesterday! :)
ReplyDeleteExcellent Steven love the way this poem moves and I get the sense of birth as well
ReplyDeleteRolled me right out to sea... :-)
ReplyDeleteZQ