Unstoppable

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.

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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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Uprooted

Currents don’t shift all at once.

Sometimes, when it floods, there is a quick new channel that displaces what passed before.

Most changes to the waterways are gradual.

A slow peel of the bank.

A deposit of gravel.

A diversion from one side of a boulder to the other.

It is easy enough to sit at the side of the water and feel secure.

To miss the bank dissolving beneath you.

To find yourself exposed, off-balance, your gravity shifted.

The words on the page work as well as any current.

A slow, steady pressure and the core unravels.

Leaving only the bare skeleton exposed-

Washed away by our changed direction.

Standing firm has its price, in both stories and life

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 If you would like to follow some more shifting channels, I have also written a fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor. It is available here.

Whitewater

The corners are always deceptive.

Rivers are not static passageways.

A stretch of slow, even current is likely to round a corner on jagged rocks, on churning undertow.

We watch for the whitewater.

Once you know the river, some dangers are fixed.

But others hide beneath the surface, rising fallen trees and stumps to surround you.

Distraction is dangerous.

Complacency is fatal.

Writing should capture that feeling.

The sweet-sour taste in your throat as you round the corner.

As the whitecaps carry you through-

Or dash you against the rocks below.

A beautiful passage, an unforgiving pathway

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If you’d like to chart some rougher waters, I have also written a fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor. It is available here.