the moment, and change

 

a future that cannot be anticipated

the world washes over us,

with so much happening every day

that it is hard to keep on our feet while in the torrent,

I love to hold myself still enough

to look up, to look around,

to chronicle enough of the moments I live

to see them, to appreciate them,

to hold this moment that will be gone way too soon,

for example, the creek by our mountain cabin holds to its channels,

but willy-nilly reconfigures its rocks,

as climate change releases high water all too often,

I had just reconciled myself

to the disappearance of some rapids by the cabin,

and the concurrent celebration of a new waterfall just upstream,

and then, a couple of months later,

high water tumbles half of the holding rocks downstream,

I need to write a poem like this,

to tread water for awhile,

though the current rushes powerfully

toward a future we can’t quite anticipate well,

I hope the roar I hear is not a waterfall that we cannot survive,

for now, though,

I want to hold and appreciate this moment.

by Henry H. Walker

October 8, ‘21