i am watching
and waiting at
the riverbank
by the ring of
a flashlight
for floodwater.
i hear the
ocean in the
bulrushes, this
is our fate, our
journeys end.
water rises
’round my ankles-
the chirping frogs
are silent;
their calling seems
unnecessary, redundant.
we are coming at last,
nigh to our crossing,
to beginnings
and endings, to baptism
and furnace, to
the birthpalce of rain
and forgiveness.