River spirit rushing on,
of breaking stones that
turn the beds where
feet and
Bare knees soaken tread,
witness spines of leaves undress.

Shaking off dirt the creak of branches
dark against the road.
Cracks in the sky beneath
the doubled load of suns,
turning wheels and slowly breathe.

We transport our lightness to the flow
back and forth in summers return
we thankful for the illusion
As the clouds clear and the
senses shift home
That it were there to be found.
As the opal light begins to glow