Return to the river
perch on the corner
with the cormorants
high, in a dying pine.
Search her depths
for nourishment,
prepare to dive.

Return to the river
and scour her bed
for stones. Feel
their smooth force,
their heft, their wear.
Honor them like bones.

Return to the river
carry your laments
to the water’s edge.
Wade in. Steady
yourself in the swiftest part
of the stream. Steady yourself
against it. Lean.

Return to the river
memorize her current.
Admire her teeth
see how the branches beneath
comb dark water.
Note how you could be caught.
Memorize this truth—
the river doesn't care
if you come up,
she cannot.

Return to the river
take in the water’s weight
above your head.
Observe danger
but do not despair.
You are no stranger to this fight.
Fight to surface. Fight
to fill your lungs with air.
Fight, as if the river
could take notice.

Return to the river
swim upstream
as once you did easily
in a dream from childhood.
Allow your thirst to lead you to source.
Drink in what is clear,
what is good.

Return to the river
to hear your own name
and reclaim it. Tell only truth
to the current. Notice
how nothing is still.

Return to the river
past her babble and low murmur
there are voices beyond number—
Listen with the readiness of river teeth
Listen with the patience of a stone
Listen with the focus of a cormorant
Listen deeply, listen long.