The water
Is ever-moving, flowing
Breathing life
Into a river.
Looked at from miles away
By an impassive eye,
The water is still
And the river is still
Like movement is unreal,
Stilled
And the waiting is like water.
The rock
Is steadfast, immobile
Giving shape
To the river.
Looked at from a broader spectrum of time
By a knowing eye,
The rock is moving.
It is being eroded
By the water
And hope is like the rock
And the waiting is like water.
Yet the water cannot be stilled
Unless I am impassive
And the rock cannot be eroded
Unless I know
Therefore
I choose to be impassive
And I choose not to know.
