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by Julia Rusinek
Thursday, August 29, 1996
This, I feel, is everything. This river Whose sound I know I always long to hear Though I am not aware Of my longing until I hear it. This beauty The peachy white rocks Peering out of the water Like curious, lost children The trees lining the shore Standing by in expectation, Anticipation, -- on guard. This sky Stained by clouds of gray And midnight blue The clear patches which scream to me Of their openness, of their possibilities Of endlessness and eternity. ... This feeling This wholeness A tiny ripple in the water below me Stirring up my insides The wind whispering through my body Caressing my soul Arousing it from slumber of death ... Life! Life! It all seems so clear here -- What is mortal and what is not.
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