after the rain

down at the estuary the river
has breached her bank
pushed the crashing shore
in a tumult of dark water
and waves.
spawning fish wait
on the turning tide.

down at the estuary
between the trees
water flows thick and dark
swirling whirlpools and eddies
along the rocks,
scraping sand and old stories
from deep pools
to the sea to the sea.

down at the estuary
houses have been swamped
silt dumped – boundary fences
matchsticks against the surge,
tide lines smudged below the windows.

there is no owning her
this river full drunk
on big rain
she flows as she will
as she does

down at the estuary
frogs are giving thanks
from earth-bank, reed and tree
a jubilant pulse – entraining
my breath and heart
to the season
while birdsong explodes
from the dripping trees
and wet grassheads are silvering
in morning light.

---

For Brendan at Earthweal’s weekly challenge: PRAISING IS WHAT MATTERS

https://earthweal.com/2021/11/22/earthweal-weekly-challenge-praising-is-what-matters/

estuary

and sometimes we wake
face down amongst the debris
of the tide line, sea grass entangled
sun pulling salt skin taut across our bones.
there is no knowing our name
or how it is we came here
but there is a thirst in us
and across the mudflats,
beyond the driftwood and bodies of creatures
forgotten by the ocean when the estuary mouth
was breached, is water.
and there is nothing to be done
but to drag yourself to that water
fall to your knees in the shallows
and let it teach you how to pray
to live adrift
a creature of the dark pools
and golden sand
creature of the soft pulling tides
and slow moon rising –
lulling you to sleep
until you dream and you remember
the course of the ocean in your veins
the rush and plummet of the waves
pulling aqua before obliterating
every part of you that
thought you were not the ocean.

and you know you have died
on those mudflats before
and you know you will die there again
just to be ocean once more
salt in your blood, hum of whales in your bones
and breath enough to live by.

and everything in you turns towards that ocean
feeling for the tide that will breach the river mouth.

 

Shallow