Rock Springs Stream in Flood
A week of almost unrelenting rainAnd this placid languid stream
That usually lingers here in silence
Where the woods is gently but firmly
Inclined to keep it in the shadows
Of the broad-shouldered banks
And leaning cottonwood trees,
Is contained now only by itself,
Roiling and cascading over rocks
And roots and tangles of ferns,
Amplifying the separate drops
Of rain into a soft roaring rush
Of many into a single abundance,
The making of many into much,
Too impatient now for reflection
And transported beyond itself in
The overflowing joy of the moment,
The exuberant abandonment to
Astonishment at what it becomes.
As, this early March morning, am I.
Poetry by countryfog
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Written on 2011-03-13 at 14:09
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