Creek-Walk Epistle

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CREEK-WALK EPISTLE


To the mosquito-bitten 

brethren on this side of things,

pacing as they tentatively eye

the froth and swirl of the times:


Ten exhortations of a rock-hopper, 

fellow seeker of the firm 

over which to ford 

this swollen stream of ours: 


  1.  

Go, but not alone. This current 

isn’t safe. You’re not 

the sure-footed exception 

you think you are. 



Still, don’t follow 

another too closely. It clouds

your vision. Allow a little 

space for the silt to settle. 



You're flesh, remember? 

don’t crawl or stand over-

straight. If you’re confused, 

emulate the willow. 

Posture is important here. 



Pay homage to the salamander

king whose country you are passing through. 

If this feels silly or beneath you, 

check that posture again. 



Remember that flat stones—

inviting as they tend to look—

are typically slick.



Get some momentum without knowing

your next foot-fall. At least you’re going



somewhere. So is the water: 

somewhere big, and bigger. 



Maybe it doesn’t matter 

if you fall in. Maybe we’re all carried

there eventually. Then again, maybe not. 

Best try your balance on a rock. 


IX. 

After a near-encounter

with a curled-up copper-

head, you mustn’t put too much weight

in your right perception of driftwood,

or anything for that matter. 


X. 

Still, would that you never 

drift in your conviction of a further 

shore, tricky as it is in getting there.


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