Equal parts coming and going,
actions and thoughts
playing many parts
along the river of life.
People speak of having to choose –
a side or team, fighting
to make up their mind
for once and for all.
On that I struggle to understand,
after all this eternity of movement
still waters feel stagnant, and
the bay into an ocean too wide and deep.
I crave the life of the in-between —
between the ponds of life
and fathoms of death.

We are not all that different,
we all have our ebbs and tides,
release and conservation.
It’s a push and pull
constant dichotomy.
All there ever has been is
the weathering of time and hurricanes of minds
as we struggle to live and grow by a river.
To be close means overflowing emotional streams.
Too far away we become parched
for knowledge and hope that our kids know
the difference between river and ocean.
So we sit nearby between swamp and farm
trying to warp and turn
our precious life source
from waste sewage to portable drink and cider.

I continue going back and forth,
hoping one day I’ll find a similar river
and that when we do we can dance
across lines and tides
find a natural ebb and flow
of dreams and goals
as we two rivers
of perpetual motions
crave the familiar antagonism
of our favorite frenemy
whom we trust more
than our friends and family.