pouring the water
from a bottomless vessel, on flames
Hilma af Klint, The Swan, no 13, 1915
Walking Water
by Wyatt Townley
Inside us the ocean
sways like a cradle
in which we rock rock
and are drawn like the tide
to the moon twice a day
we carry our water and it carries us
we are a good pail with legs
foot by foot on the turning
mountain of the world
water walking on the prairie
walking water on the road
up the stairs through a door
where the view rushes out of us
through the window to the woods
rushing water in the desert
rushing water in this chair
and that one you’re in
water walking
and what is solid is not at all
what we thought the rock
worn away by the rocking
from Rewriting the Body (Stephen F. Austin Press, 2018)
Creative Invitations
Summon your first memory of being in a bathtub. Experience it again, remember the one you were who took that bath, and how it felt. Draw on the nearest piece of paper—draw the bathtub and the little body of you. Draw the energy coming off of you, or enveloping you.
Where would you like to pour your vessel of water today? We have the power to quench thirst, soothe burns, give life to soil microbes, grow trees, hallelujah. If you would like to send liquid energy in the form of money to mutual aid for the fires in Southern California, here is a trusted, vetted grassroots group: baby2baby.
The glass may not be half-full or half-empty, but what’s important, a friend reminded me, is that it’s refillable.