Who will I become

When I am truly myself?

How deep must I dig?

Sleeping on the wing

Canvas flaps and crickets sing

The river’s calling

While rust ridden scythes

Loom over lowering steel skies

The tired meadow sighs

I prick up my ears

Limbs lean holding their brother

Focus on the ups

Treacherous river

Twitch and twist through your trenches

Transitive courses

Your gentle babble

Still echoes through the darkness

Planning my return

Release your desires

Throw them into the deepest

Learn to only be

When I’m in the flow

There is only the river

Everything I know

In the reflection

Of rolling surface tension

A new dimension

Neverending days

Stretch me out, wind fills my sails

Float through the forest

Some dreams burn away

Smoke clouds carried on the wind

What was not now is

Around the corner

Down hill, dead end, dry valley

Turn back into dust

Reach out from the field

Casting lines and folding ears

Clouds our only shield

There’s a gap between

Words you say and what you mean

Lines I cannot read

Gather round the fire

Hear the tune, become the choir

Under the full moon

The river calls me

It draws me in and slowly

Washes me away

Those sunburnt kisses

Holding on to golden hands

First ideas are best

Rivers bends themselves

To find out a better course

Work is never done

Gather the waters

Channel them down the mountains

Bring life to the land

Wherever you flow

Through sluice, weir, lock, flume and gate

Take me along too

Wade through the river

My bones will quake and quiver

A goose skin shiver

Burning clouds melting

In the fervent summer heat

Worlds will pass away

Pride creeps up on you

Sneaking in through cracks and flaws

Tangled up in doubt

What is confidence?

The key stone in an archway

Blinkers on a horse