Rain has not fallen
on these parched hills
for months–
bowl-shaped reservoirs
speak of want and emptiness,
shrunken camellias
stunted in place
mark the space
formerly known as a garden.
The hillsides are brown,
a paper bag
folded flat.
Trees hold leaves,
but distressed they are–
hanging on, sending roots deep
seeking moisture to live.
The ground is cracked, dry, thirsty,
screaming for water.

And I sit here
while you cry, an
unstoppable river
emptying you out
to the last drop (for now)
of the pain, the past,
the power you no longer have,
letting go because
you are thirsty-
waiting for the water to wash,
rush through,
carry the debris down the ravine
cut by the knife that has pierced your heart.

There is a river coming
here for you–
endlessly moving,
rushing (always)
to those in the lowest places,
Water unending to
quench your thirst.

Don’t just stand at the edge
reaching for a drink
cup in hand, filling and emptying
again and again.

You’ll have to jump in
and be swept away.

J. L. Collins 2012
Aliso Creek, Laguna Beach, CA, by the Author

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6 thoughts on “Watershed

  1. Jump in and be swept away….yes, yes! It takes courage, but oh, the result!

  2. I know what drought is like, both kinds. I believe they are necessary, and make the land, and us, stronger. Awesome write, Jody Lee. I love the finishing lines.

  3. smiles…i know that river that is coming…and this makes for a fine metaphor…sometimes you have to be empty too in order for it to come…smiles…

  4. great metaphor here for the times when there's not enough natural water left to quench the thirst…

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