I walked through the birches by the river today. Overwhelming! The earth is stripped down to simple designs. The land has become a visual haiku. Sun on the fretwork of twigs. Blood droplets of rose hips clinging to the bushes. The chatter of the creek against trimmings of ice. The skiff of snow. My breath a white cloud like a departing soul... I have always been beguiled by birds. As if there was much they would tell me if they could, but they are only permitted to bear witness with their lives, their song.
...Deep. deep down in the earth
There is the pure water
The way is down
The old sources have become clogged
New wells are sought...
That might be there
Deep down
For us
I have met her
That one
Who holds a true divining rod
That one who is seeking pure water