Carry On
.
They were river
River was his language
All of them
They were many
Under the surface a philosophy
Mysteries he would share with me.
That place a chrysalis.
.
Now is desert
What is called river in desert
He would have named creek.
.
But desert speaks to the me without him
Its life-preserving drops and vast openness
That seem uninhabitable.
The old shaman said
You must put your root down deeper to live.
Here root is what is needed to carry on.
Here root is my language.
poetry elixir 