FALLING WATER ROARS

Our bodies are but dust & water. Thirst begets life & death. A cup of cool water becomes life-giving—with a quintessential mingle of gratitude and renewal.

FALLING WATER ROARS

                  Eventually, all thirsts merge
                  and a river runs through it.

Cliffs bare and dry    out of nothing

falling water roars

into mist

Vertical basalt holds back

dust of the great Missoula flood and from it

springs leak out    insistent on surfacing

frantic to get out    A kind of longing

comes    keeps coming    like time

hungry    craven     Attracted to gravity

as thirst seeps underground and waits

eons    easing through caverns    a drought

down deep down    This kind of dryness

sops up every drop of life   The ache of want

forgets how to percolate gladness

out onto the gravel   Ledges & footholds

this is about the way evil is never pure

or ignorant    but slippery    waiting

changing the color

of whatever it touches    even as what we call

wet    no longer has that far off smell

delighting our senses     Wait    there it is

one drop of water announces life

A pregnant bulge squirms    swells

drops off a branch    letting go a globe

that mirrors the whole world

upside down    Oh just play along

with January    Sun’s so far left

this new lake will soon freeze    as if cold

make water forget

everything it touched along the way

This is where every    single    guilty word

stiffens    cold    colder

waiting    for a rivulet’s faint murmur

of forgiveness    Oh it’s there

Here it comes

but it’s gratitude

that stirs the waters

in an ablution so complete

ice rises

A note to the reader: In Susan Cowger’s poetry, extra spaces between words serve as the pauses that punctuation normally provides. Capital letters denote the beginning of a new sentence.

The featured image is courtesy of Aaron Burden on Unsplash. We are grateful for his generosity.

Susan Cowger

Poet and visual artist, Susan attends to image: water, sky, faces, flowers, and birds, oh the birds,
even rocks and pebbles, wherever beauty heals and anoints. Beauty ever provides when life feels
bereft. Susan has traveled to marvelous places worldwide and worked in Kenya with Spring of
Hope International. Now Susan and husband Dana live in Spokane WA. Married 47 years, they
have four children and 22 grandchildren (and yes, she finds that number rather shocking too).

susancowger.com