When men from afar
arrived on the broad river
rain pushed them down,
offended them in smoke filled lodges
beneath strips of drying fish;
they wanted what was from their past
not this ocean deluge from the sky.
To understand water is a gift,
its softness lifting in cold air
sweeping in waves along the river,
cascading on iridescent green needles
until the ground, the sky and water are one,
the sound of rain opening,
tenderness swelling in every drop.
