Three miles down...You make it look so easy.
White caps meandering slowly through crook and cranny.
Like you, my course is fast and slow.
You share your white, frothy cascades...
and I share my solitude.

Your angry charge of the riverbank hastens my pace....
as the geese scatter and scold me for my rude interruptions...
your churning voice speaks to me -
with distinction and charm.
I can't keep your pace...and you must still move on.

A leaf benignly mimics each of my steps...
chasing away the distance as though teasing me.
Lingering nearby ...you lend me your peace,
as I search for my own.


The day passes...now the course must end.
The Sun leaves its remnants of light,
just enough for my steps to be sure...
an hour and a moment of insight,
tis' why I come here...
always enraptured by your mystical allure.

Gregory