The river is living water;
blue-green truth flows
between us, through us
upon earth, wildflowers
birthing dandelion fluff.
Oh, how we mimic life,
mirroring each other’s
smiles, shaking hands
with knives behind our
backs. Perhaps we need
to go to the mountains
and just breathe for a
minute and remember
why we came. Toss a
silver coin and realize
how insignificant woes
are within the scheme
of things. We are dust;
pins on a map. Let’s be
more than that. Let’s live.
Be like that river, and flow.



2 thoughts on “Flow

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