I invented this river, dreamed it up
Been dreaming it wider and wider,
I stand on this bank and the other side
Is lost to me, even as I am lost, each day
What I think I am, is less and less
What is all about me, more and more
And yes the river is deep and wide
Who or what’s on the other side, hidden:
Dreaming is a hard skill to master—
I toss my hat the length of the river
But cannot see the other side
Dreaming it wider, wider (a statement
worth consideration and not
profound at all) I stand and fish,
Catch my limit most often, dinner
For friends as well, yet questions
On the nature of dreaming rivers ways
Are as many as the colors of fish, answers
Fewer than seem far somehow—
But the river is my own dream
If I don’t mind where it takes me
The river can break me in the deep.
Crossings are hard task to master.
The river is my own invention.
