Confluence

Two rivers are born
high in the mountains
Fed by rain, snowmelt and springs
watered by the sun-warned sea

Each begins as a trickle
and builds to a stream.
Every tributary roiling it
Every riffle shaking it
Every boulder smashing it

Each tribulation adds to its power
The steeper the drops
The narrower the slots
The mightier each river grows

Each on its own path,
being pulled, unaware,
toward the other
Until their canyons merge
And they meet
And mix and build
with each other
into each other
and create an even greater flow
made of them both

Broader and deeper
and even more powerful,
they carve through the mountains of their birth
across the plains of their rebirth

They meander together
Nourishing each other
Nourishing the landscape
Savoring their journey
all the way to the sea

– end –

Lee McCormack
(inspired by Lori)