1/1/10 (so many 1s and /s, lines perpindicular like roads... 8/5/12)
Wait. Find it. It is not, need not be - yet - it is. If you wait to find it. The skip rock never touches much of the water. But all the water supports the bounce, the whole body. Is it so with the push to arm? The hip sinking, ankle shifting, deflection, push back, flying body? No impact touches the soul but still, the soul is behind it. Every attack demands answer. Every uttered word, we think on it later, before we sleep, and on the stairs. Ever after wondering how better to answer. Find that word. Under the skin. Support the rock. The infinite depths. Wait. Find it.
8/5/12
Less miracle, or trick, a rock to skip, than one to sink.
The water, wide and deeper than we can think it,
pushes up to meet the little rock's pink bottom
like a mother yes and all the linked molecules,
their vastity impenetrable, the rock should fly...
that it ever falls is the mystery,
that we ever fall
who have such waters below us
