Creative

A burbling stream in a dark and quiet forest

Earth is one third the age of the Universe

And life began soon after its formation

I am a minuscule eddy in a vast and coursing river

of living water

Congealed, salty water,

an intricate arrangement of pond scum

A swamp thing shaking out its limbs,

breaking the long and sacred tradition of unliving matter

of rolling downhill

Instead we gaze upwards towards our source

 

My current assemblage is fresh, a flower in bloom

But my roots are deep

In each of my cells is the long story of interaction with the surface of this planet

Unbroken, whispered from one generation to the next

Advising me

Telling me their stories of survival through impulses and desires

Each of my siblings hears a slightly different version

An eddy is not separate from its stream

I have fears older than stars

And urges that have seen our galaxy ripen

from its primordial matter,

seen stars forge new elements from which more of us might come into being

Out of which more worlds might come alive

And whisper stories to themselves in the darkness

and the silence