Sometimes I feel like a waterfall

wrestling with gravity I am heavy and

torrential and endlessly crashing

against granite.

Somehow I spill

into the canals dug by words, 

Slowing, a stream, rolling along soft

clay. What I see is

a stream of consciousness moving forward.

What I see is

the endless play of elements

as I sit on a

cool, slippery slab of stone

remembering that I am within and without.

I am not an uncontrollable tide of water.

I am not the victim of my own force, lost in the ultimatum of

the approaching edge, the imminent fall. 

I observe: endless helixes of trickling water.

A reflection in my eyes

 and

a symphony in my ears.  

Now I am 

becoming a vessel: learning to create and sustain. 

By Shreya Manna ©

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