The riot of sound like fireworks, unrelenting yet consistent,
calling out our names,
drawing us near
to stand before
rushing motion of nature,
feeling the spray
kicking off the high green basin.
collecting what tumbles
for life below,
forming and
struggling and
clashing
under the accelerated.
We face the action sometimes,
then our backs turn away
from the massive display
so that we can be captured
in frame,
not even seeing it,
pushing away,
ignoring it.
We all want it
contained and
possessed
like we can own this force.
Nearby, a more modest splashing.
A smaller cascade,
almost crawling
down into a pool.
One that feeds a creek,
that lands into the larger flow.
Here a child strains with her parents
holding her tight
at the edge
of the smaller dark pool.
She bends to put her finger in, while
the adult holds for safety
that the child
knows nothing about.
The child possessed by the wonder
in reach,
by the curiosity
and the need to connect
that resides within us all.
I wrote this inspired by the Middle Falls in Letchworth State Park.
I thought of the need to cultivate a greater claim on how we direct our intention… and how a child can sometimes show us the way.
