I stood in the sun and watched the river run by, mesmerized by its current, envious of the tree trunk leisurely catching a ride. Wait! Don’t leave me behind. And so I ran alongside the river running. Pacing my gait, imagining myself leaping from ice chunk to ice chunk, until I noticed the river had stopped. What a gentle giant to slow his flow–matching perfectly the rhythm of feet on pavement. Time stood still as we made our way toward the ocean.
Will you forever run with me, River, said I.
Isn’t that what we’re doing? Stride by stride.
I sat in the sun, on a rock, just above the ocean and let her take me back in time. For I who see rivers stand still also hear oceans plead, invitation after invitation, to get lost in her waters. Gentle, polite, ocean kissed my toes and bit my ankles. Impatient, an act of insurgency, ocean sprayed my face and hair. Out of time, she rumbled, moving earth beneath me, come lose yourself as when you were young, before it’s too late.
I was unmoving.
Slapped by rejection, the tide turned, birthing more and more beach in its departure. Who else was so generous in the wake of refusal? Stirred by beauty, I run to her. Baptize me in love.