The Creek

Jun 25, 2023

the creek

swollen with snowmelt,

glacial blue tint not long removed

from the winter stores

layered over months

by winter storms,

burying granite cliffs in shimmering white –

releasing, an inevitable thaw,

as the sun moves north again,

birthing spring,

bursting greens, fuchsia, yellows, and periwinkle bells

filling meadows where butterflies flourish,

and a lone deer remains uncertain about shedding

his winter coat.

 

the creek

breaching her banks,

overtaking rocks and lowlands,

as thunder commands with lightning flash,

rain pelts –

leaving deep ruts down muddy roads,

in search of the first chance to join

the creek wild,

not to be slowed,

dragging silt from up above

to settle below –

spring in the mountains,

the daily clash of weather

swirling, swooping in, dowsing and drowning

nature’s spring cleaning, as harsh

as it is mystical,

gods ruffled,

any wrongly spoken word

silenced by

 

the creek.

I come to her with my own storms,

sympatico – rushing and questioning,

indecisions crashing,

uncertainty unceasing,

my days melting away –

gathered worries and gathering grief,

frozen glaciers of buried feelings,

ease under bright sun

and big skies,

thoughts tumble

from softened, water-soaked ground

to rest,

joined by darkened clouds releasing

torrents of curiosity and concern

exposing the jagged, raw skyline

of a lifetime.

 

the creek,

she roars her way into my head

whisking away every bit of

sludge and petty complaint, worry and needless chatter,

tearing through narrowed debates

only to roll up and over

arguments not worth having –

she carves out judgments, pushes criticism to the left,

her constant wearing away, compassion

pounding boulders of judgment

and as she recedes, the well-scrubbed,

the smoothed and soothed mind exposed

to glisten, once again, in the sun.

 

the creek

inhaled, a smell so fresh, so pure

fills my lungs with her hum

speaks to my heart

in a lost language known only to a mother

in those first moments after birth, lost in the vapors

of ecstasy, misunderstood

later when what was lost,

sought after with her every cell,

leaves her somehow bereft –

 

the creek

sweep me up,

swallow me whole!

For a moment, I am

 

the creek

running free,

humming wildly,

flowing Home.

 

In Case I Forget
Falling

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