Until Love is Mainstream

brook.jpg

If Katsushika Hokusai can draw and create a wave over and over for 30 years, then I think I can keep working on my I am brook poem for the rest of my life. It is unlikely it would ever have value to anyone other than me. That is perfect.

I am brook, simple and small,
part of the cycle,
returning to sea.

I am love.

I collect, I gather,
for the return.
Even a great wave
starts small.
Drops fall through the canopy and
gather in the brook.
No one needs to wander out
and look
where it starts
drops gather.
the water is clear.

The momentum picks up.
Rocks split the stream.
The brook gathers them back.
They move on bubbling,
carrying the leaves,
rolling the stones.

Always moving,
building, gathering.
She is in her prime when
others worry, when the
rain is harsh and the
winds blow.

Her purpose,
she bubbles, she darts.
Making new paths required
to stay on task.
She widens, zigzags.
Working angles
and pitches

Whatever it takes to
speed up the process to
honor the system.
Without anyone’s attention
she gathers, she grows.
She lives with meaning,
no one knows.