Holding On

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage" — Lao Tzu, Taoist Philospher, sometime between the 6th & 4th Century BCE

River's Wind
                    For Terry

Late light on the river
shows us where the beaver lifts
his dark face
from darker water,
willow leaves in his lips, willow limbs
stripped and bare as bones
at our feet.

At the end of the day,
we feel the ending.
Two kingfishers rattle
in the firs and fall silent;
a single, yellow alder leaf
spins downstream,
sinking into dusk.

I look into your eyes
and see they are not pebbles.
The river moves in them—
both fixed and flowing, they are alive
in this moment, two blue flowers
caught in the river's wind.

The beaver drifts
toward us, just forehead and wet eyes
glinting on the surface, so that
in the dimness he could be
nothing more than water
folding in on itself.

A coolness lifts and
the sky bruises purple,
a dozen bats suddenly above us,
licking into the night. All we want
is here, now. I lean into your left arm,
each of us holding on
as long as we can.

Special thanks to Toyon, a literary journal of Humboldt State University, for publishing this poem in its 2010 issue, Volume 56. I reprint it here in celebration of my 18^th wedding anniversary, along with an even more special thank you to my husband, Terry, for our 18+ years exploring the world together.