I need to be near water. Running water. To take away what I am holding in.
To give it up. To let it go. To let the tears return to their salty mother. The ocean.

I need to be in the river. Ankle deep. To let the water wash off the dust on my feet.
From walking in the drought for too long.

The bottoms of my feet red from the river bed’s smooth pebbles and the freshness of the water.
Blood circulating under the surface of my skin. Following the rumble of the water.

The beat of my heart rumbling along.

With arms open wide I remain in the water. Glacier-topped mountains behind me. Close and tall.
In front of me the long and entangled way of the water.
Unraveling itself on the way home.