Like Noise of the Pouring River

Like   noise   of the   pouring   river

the mind  lets  go,   throws  spray

like   water’s   pulse   and hurl.

What’s   true   for    the    waterfall

is true  for  the water  before  its fall,

at the brink recalls and

recoils,  spins  and  rolls  forward

into  that  fall.   It  never  runs  out,

never   loses   the weight

of  its being,  the nervous  stuttering

surge  of  energy   at  its  conversion.

The river   pours,  but  is always  at

the edge,  the border   of ordinary

purpose   and  extraordinary   force.

 

 

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