write in stone, live in water
every waterfall draws us
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZxPAEdQwrePyCcxVkzbpEu6JH9_QeIyJBvLJXEN0D0HTXkzQBcGXRB5HPAs3RrI_y7kOwMTFypW6eGirqA6Be4sltXNepAQGKA83x72NElHui2WdyryDyZJMa-VISRg2I5htI0wqQg4/s320/ramsy+cscade.jpg)
as two great truths reveal themselves there:
the need for solidity, as rock holds and holds,
the need for fluidity, as water moves at the heart of life,
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuJglEiEAtQsKQp882zQI6lWBU31DybN07Gm0ldDyCSLO1DQKXeqZcs1m_aDnDv9GplYpYX6Q053hZaE_4u8XzmOX7_XDDNQBY5o3PKqyjV2u9aPalnOTaYk-QkfnoDaG0kTuY5UGTDY/s320/nimrodel.jpg)
I love how much history stone can hold:
memories of sea and of fire, of cataclysm and transformation,
of the human eye who shaped point and wall,
of those who wrote in stone a bit
while most of human lives flows away to be forgotten,
yesterday a storm thundered over us and then up mountain,
and the creek roared with its new charge,
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7yuzNipZ11jJ-fcdYv5CxBXLfjM8XTq0dDv-h_n6pC1wZv8gAU1WcSpwPBQxuY7Zscs_hajHkWSlxUbCU6VrN6c0A6mbowElNH12ZnR9T9sAmxeAVD_VLzU_ZSYZDTI6faupjRIEfd_s/s320/IMG_0487.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SEDx-rp7EVJDqZUcsEfRGX6LOPymLSslxfDkm6nkeTraoV7NEXFHsGX9V0sWeI8T0o8BMgyhUvVMBfOPvLjwVjRWOgzjGoqBr9lgm3aHmmcF7T85VDgdNEAzHH7XKw9Xx8mVyhtNARs/s320/IMG_0488.jpg)
whenever our batteries are running low
water in fall or sea quickens our blood
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4WKqh1z7hi2o9QXx1ZWKFr_v2esqWIaANQ-o5Acor630P6CxkNCZxckkNrktq98GonvbJ8ORYwLorpOq11NZ7aA7LGHwmUt_wIumg-YwWBlcftI0awdBtPiRTaycsr9HTZxgmj_xIaoQ/s320/IMG_4275.jpg)
as we remember the charge to flow with grace and power,
we can write in stone
but we live in water.
July 22, ’12
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