Stopping on the sloping verge of the creek,
I look upstream, joyed at the sight of the water
perc-ing and burbling over stones and pebbles,
through flashing sunsparks and leafy shadows.
But there, just in front of me, the creek pools,
quiets to stillness,
not a ripple of movement I can see,
only still still water, creek bed,
rough stones, aged roots of trees.
One could see such still-standing water
and think stagnant, closed down, stopped,
nothing ongoing going on,
but the water’s clarity belies the thought…
And I can see the creek just downstream
flowing on, burbling and dancing
through dappled shade and sunlight.
This stream is reflecting my life.
I am pooling, too, quieting, inward,
something subtle moving, changing deep in my life,
something wanting to manifest, pooling within,
coming through the depths of my years,
soul and spirit and self, gathering,
transmuting to flow on…but differently.
And it comes to me to ask,
could this ominous era of climate emergency,
pandemic, unrest, collapse and dis-ease
be a pooling and transmuting, too?
Something wanting to change,
needing to change,
insisting on change,
before it’s too late,
transmuting in us each and together?
Coming out of dimmed stillness, the other side.
Image Credit: Photo and art by Ann Keiffer