The water waits

for no one

mountains crumble

under machines and time and

the rivers carry the

remains to the ocean

the old canneries sink

into the estuaries and

and the water still calls

the salmon home

our nets catch

not only fish but something larger

and as they are tossed onto the

shorelines they

briefly hold a piece

of eternity

We can only hope to build something to briefly meet the power of forever

I sometimes think that our best creations as people are those that are flexible enough to acknowledge their (and our) temporary place in the larger world.

For more innovation in the face of inevitability, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.


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