Heaven is Under Our Feet

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You may never

step in the same river twice,

but it feels

all too familiar

to tread water.

We’re up to our knees

and it seems

we’ll be bogged-down

for a while.

You must accept

that if you get down and dirty,

you’re bound to leave

some footprints.

Press on, press on —

the adventure doesn’t end

because our shoes are scuffed,

our pants

caked with dirtclods,

our hair more mussed

than when we just woke up.

The world is your canvas,

and you are equal parts

artist and explorer-

this morning is a once-in-a-lifetime

opportunity

to simply live.

Just make sure,

upon your return,

that you don’t track any mud

on your clean carpets.

There’s a time and a place

for that.

Hydraulic Jump

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A sudden rise,

In the babbling whitewater,

Runs backwards,

And defies,

The established,

Instability.

Jets spray,

Tourists paddle,

A bear,

Straddles a boulder,

Waiting for trout,

To breach,

Into its open snout,

If it can reach.

The inflatable raft,

Glides over,

The aerated stream,

Rapids,

And drop-offs,

Turning with the bends,

Instead of against them,

Even when they seem to be going,

No place,

It’s not a race,

Just a vacation.