“…in His law doth he meditate day and night”
“For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous”
I’m not floating in the river;
I’m not afloat.
I am the hanging branch that dips down
to feel the passing currents.
The water feeds my trunk that
I’m so far from now,
and the fruits I adore are abundant.
They topple and fall;
rot on the ground and I must watch.
I dunk the ripe ones in the river
to wash them away,
because though I can’t myself,
rooted in the soil,
I can feel pleasantly
knowing that the spawn of my labor
will drift away
to wherever it is that rivers drift.