Poem 514

The thing about the flow is there’s a lot of things carried along in it, good and bad …

The Flow

it's all a question of getting into it
isn't it
            of taking a watery view of things
joining the magic green circles
                                                                 seasonal
menstrual

                    this is a beachy country
so everyone knows about the sand river dragging
the breakers sideways with nothing to mark you
how you drift and come out again fifty yards
down from your towel
                                             be as laid back
             as a corpse
             bend like a tree and balance
the rain against the sun
                                                  pray against gale force
winds against disease or ringbarking woodland
creatures
                    proclaim nature beautiful
   and make bread out of it
                                                      ignore the terror
of being free
the forest fires that skin back the ground
started by lightning in a natural matchbox
of a summer
                         go with the flow
                         until it turns into steam