On Being a River

We are a rushing river

Cutting a new path

To become a new river

We are a rushing river

Grinding, sanding,

Briefly alighting, gurgling.

Seeking.

Invisible millimeter by inch

We alter:

          History

          The past

          Ourselves

We shall rush on.

Come my friends, think!

Feel the pull and push –

Slide, sloppily to some

But grace was never clean.