Your hand is clinging to the thin, ropey root in the muddy bank.
You’re afraid of the flow,
I know. I promise you,
you won’t drown. No, you will be carried
and so lovingly that your breath can slow and your body relax.
But first you must let go.
Soon you will
remember yourself
as river
moving always
inevitably
to the sea.
Photo by Sara Kurfeß