The waterfall across the way reminds
me of you: how its flowing essence streams
and flashes, then runs away, despite kind
and gentle words I offer. How you seem
to remind me of me – small fears streaming
and growing to greater fear uncontrolled.
Poetry’s power flows through our dreaming,
our experience -- universe’s soul
flowing through our every cell. We’re finding
our way, it seems, despite ourselves -- our fear
somehow leading to tears flowing, blinding
us, leading to prayer, followed by a clear
view of who we really are. The waterfall
across the way keeps flowing: essence of all.
Roger Armbrust
October 31, 2015
