The body is a raging river, the past courses through us without recourse, yet the earth is what we set before it, crashing the waves & forcing the river harshly along new avenues.

It's an explosive & often unpredictable journey, trying to tame the wild river, but she is water, & listens to the land she relates to.

The fire, once undying in our hearts, is quenched slowly & then all at once, when the river has been brought to bear.

Fire may rage deep below the consciousness of our minds, yet water is subterranean too.

& life makes its way & sends its roots down along the paths the river sets, even a land where only ash & smoke remain.

We are not static creatures, & the life that courses through us can be bent to new means & new angles.

The absence of hope is the blinding of our sight to what was missing from our past. Yet the future is always promising something new to the past, & the present is never dtatic either.

Eventually the spaces we could not sit in for their rage & noise are washed over in feelings of hope, possibility, & a deep knowing, once we arrive, & all the more as the future comes.

The past is not settled, it is not even entirely past, but rather, always becoming.