Better to understand a river
By understanding how I understand a river
I must step back from the bank of thought
And let it flow
It’s not a cross or censor
Any more than nature’s confidential
Its hidden nooks hold secrets
That the wind gossips about to the trees
That the Arve baubles about to the rocks
To the passersby of lee
In these rooms of God’s house
Turned inside out like a dirty garter
Nothing is ever lost
Let it flow into the unconscious tombs
Of the mind, through awful scenes
Shadowed in a permanent midnight
In the many locked rooms of God’s house
Lie the relics of an elder time,
Who caterwaul about like bigotry
And let it flow.
