the hollow log

i like that my life

allows me to say

with my heart

let the river

carry me

under the trees

let

my body

be a hollowed log

carried

from

eddie to whorl

and

let me

drift

under a sky

scattered

by branches and leaves

let me feel

this quiet river

broken

into tiny ripples

on the bark

of my passing

twigs and branches

dragging like fingers

and let me

drift

forever onwards

turning

and shaping

and feeling

and being

this tiny space

whole and alone

entirely connected

to the all of everything

in the little universe

of my knowing