The regal Delaware When I was young
moves smoothly, effortlessly, I used to sit at the water’s edge
going with the flow with pail and shovel

arising from within, and a rounded sand sifter of many colors,
stretching its way forward holding destiny in my little hands
into yesterday’s tomorrows. as the sifted sand made it through

Her waters paint in broad strokes and the obstacles were thrown away
measured rhythms and cleansing energies. with their sharp-edged density,
Wisdom-keeper, Earth’s listener. never knowing the lightness of being in the flow.

The buoyancy of motion Silver-white cloud shapes
betrays what has been learned are reflected back to shore-line
about the nature of rock and stream, against an illusion of azure stability.

seeking in the flow Yet all is in motion;
that which never changes no flow is ever at rest.
while allowing what remains
Like the course of a life
to sink into oblivion with its winnowing purposes
along the river’s bottom, holding the stillness of yet to be
apart from all appearances.
strong and steady and self-contained,
while it winds its meandering way
forward and through summer’s short season.