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Posts Tagged ‘water’

 

 

Praise the summer, with its

endless drought. How you’d rather

revile it, change it, pray

for the world to be another way.

Praise the sky, relentlessly clear,

and the dry field that crunches

beneath your feet.

You dream of green, dream

of laughing in the rain, dream

of puddles and the thin river

rising. But praise the scarcity,

how it teaches you what

you would rather not know—

how fragile the balance,

how every drop matters,

how lucky it is

to grow.

 

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trickle in the desert—

it takes so little water

to make a song

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you, the traveler

thirsting in the desert

and me, the whisky

wishing I could be

your water

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Yes, if I am
the wind,
then let you
be the sail,
and if I am
the water,
let you be
the water, too.

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Three Rivulets

foolish woman
writing these poems
as if the word water
could quench a thirst
as if the word love

*
river of joy
river of sorrow
they become one water

*

for two billion years
the amount of water on earth
has remained the same
how to explain
all these tears

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Living by Water

If you dig deep enough
anywhere on this land
you will eventually hit water.
It is hard to believe this,
looking at the field with its tall grass
and mullein leaves and globes of salsify.

It is so human to want some proof,
to grab the shovel and dig up the earth
so that dirt covers the daisies, the grass.
Then they’re buried and dead, but at least
we know, our shovels wet, that it was true.

Sometimes I wish I had the scalpel
that could cut into to me to find you,
you the river who moves
through my life, clear and continuous,
immeasurable, surprising, unseen.

But what would it prove that I do
not already know: That we die
without water. That the field
is a good place to kneel, to pray.

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Prodigal

After all this time
you still pour
pure water
into my chipped cup.
You know
I will spill and still
you pour,
and you pour.
You know, too,
how even
despite great thirst
I will sometimes
refuse to drink,
how even when
the water doesn’t
reach my lips
they are still
blessed
with your giving.

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It would take weeks
to walk to your house, still
our hearts so close.

*

This morning I ski
into the woods—forty years
later I ski out.

*

The snow did not stop
when I said stop, but it did
not fall forever.

*

Across the lake
invisible in the trees,
the crow in my ear.

*

That ripple
never travels and it is
always new water.

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