River

 some people are lakes,

seeking stillness, seeking

rest, finding clarity as the suspended muck settles

easily at the bottom.

 

others are swamps or mangroves

nurturing insatiable, ravenous, vibrant

life from their musky bosom.

 

most are the ocean, spread beyond the horizon,

dancing under the moon in salty, orgiastic

simplicity.

 

I, like the rest, am a river; my peace in non-stop

movement, running wherever gravity wills,

clawing scars in mountains, scraping

vanes and viaducts through deserts and canyons,

leaving green hope in my path,

 

and when I find myself in that endless ocean,

I’ll evaporate and return to the snowy peaks

to do it all again.

***

(Cuenca, Ecuador -- April, 2021)

I've always hated going to thee beach because just sitting on the sand while my anxieties pick away at me isn't relaxing. What is relaxing for me, however, is open water swimming, hiking, and running. For me, I need to be moving with my blood flowing.