In the way of ourselves
by Mark Dvorak
We stop ourselves.
Each of us have a way
like a river
we must not ever
wish to enter.
To wade in,
to swim in
or even float down
like Huck Finn
on a raft
asking Jim
if he knew
where this thing
might be going.
We stop ourselves
then relish the chance
to talk about
stopping.
To describe
stopping,
and perhaps even
take some credit
for stopping,
knowing this thing,
this thing,
this river
is even there,
all the while
knowing
it has always
been there
carving deep canyons
cutting through
fertile earth
ever flowing within.
Ever flowing
somewhere.
We stop ourselves,
then cry.
Knowing the way
of this river
is there
and has always been
there.
Ever flowing.
We cry
standing
in the way
of ourselves.
2.16.21