Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs
through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over
rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless
raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are
theirs.
I am haunted by waters.
We had to be very careful in dealing with each other. I often thought of him as a boy, but I never could treat him that way. He was never "my kid brother." He was the master of an art.
I sat there and forgot and forgot, until what remained was the
river that went by and I who watched. On the river the heat mirages danced
with each other and then they danced through each other and then they
joined hands and danced around each other. Eventually the watcher joined
the river, and there was only one of us. I believe it was the river.
It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us.