River of Time


I’ve been rowing the Grand Canyon for about a month. Sixteen of us were on the river for 20 days. It takes a couple days to drive there and a couple more to drive back. It takes a day to rig and much of another to unrig.

I used to write poems more often when I was younger. Much younger.

This is what I wrote on the trip:

River of Time

When I close my eyes I see the water,
Pulsing, swirling,
Chaotic to me,

When I look up between the canyon walls,
I see the sky,
Pulsing, swirling,
Water as white clouds,
Wind that presses,

The water in the sky and in the river yearns for the ocean,
From whence it came,

We have sprung from the water,
And share the yearning,
We dance the pulses and swirls in bright artifacts,

We feel the pull of the final destination,
We know the water will reclaim us,
But we have learned that the river is the arrow of time,

We must take our temporary leave,
To dance another day.

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