The water runs despite me standing here. 
I can do nothing to stop its flow.
All this I try and take with me as I leave yet cannot.
Like the way the waters meet and run together
How the edges turn gently pooling 
Where eddies still rippled lose focus
As dappled surface renders depths unknown
When grey rocks colour underwater.
There is no carrying these things 
which make heavy burdens light. 
Water cupped into hands is river no more 
memories of beauty contained undivided let go
And become her unrelenting flow 
of energy and ever onward stream.



Apart or a part?
Reaching out to touch the tree
Standing in the shadow of the branches
Swimming between the rocks
Catching the light of the sun upon my face
A part or apart of this?
Drawn to touch the mirror glass surface 
Suddenly shattered, a thousand shards reflect back 
Withdraw and it recomposes yet 
one touch rippled outwards for an age
waves of disturbance radiate away
as if something unwanted,  yet
a gentler touch, the water parts, allows space within
To participate alongside, caressing sunlight reflected
The potential of all things cradled in the palm of my hand 
I must immerse myself to be a part.


I am lost in the flow
I am tumbled over
I am rippled with swirling beauty
I am content, at peace inspired
I am the tranquil sussurus
Until at breaking point unknown
I am overpowered in the unending flow
I am waterfalling sparkling
translucent overflowing until,
crushed, thrown, the sky refracted
I am intricately woven again and lost in the flow. 

Stuart Elliott December 2023