Rooted in the Greek word for riddle
I steady myself
in the middle of the stream
So much rain
my toes search for purchase
as I move along in the strong current
~
But I’ll not wander in the side eddies
where the slickest algae
coats the surface of the stones still idling there
passing time as if singular
feigning reflection
~
An intoxicated accumulation
of over fertilized organic matter
girdling themselves
as if they could hold on to the ground
~
My days have been emptying
full of the feeling that I’m living in two separate realities
~
More than a waiting game
too much hard evidence
~
Carrying a pack that needs to be cleaned out
and made into a traveling case of essentials
fit for traveling in even faster flowing water
~
I’ve been carrying these stones around with me for decades. The one with the impressed shells is from the Northwest Pacific coast and was gifted to me. Its partner once dwelled further south, somewhere along the coast by Half Moon Bay, south of San Francisco.
They traveled with me when I returned to the waters of the east coast, after my sojourn with the Pacific. The stones always hold a corner of one of my gardens, along with a bowl of water for the critters and birds.
The poem inserted into the photo arrived out of the blue, as many poems tend to do. It came as a puzzle and I chuckled as I considered who it could be referring to.
That is until…. could it possibly be “water”? And partner with the poem “Enigma”?
~
Poems and photo © Jana White
Instagram @ Jana_H_White
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