I was sitting on a mountain,
high enough to breathe the clouds,
I saw your river veins running
heard the roar of you crashing through the valley below,
and I missed you.
To me, you are every river
you are every shade of liquid,
cerulean lightness and the heaviest deep blue.
I know that for you
the pressure sometimes hurts.
You dive deeper than your bursting eardrums can take.
But I have also seen you float, feather man.
I’ve seen you hollow out your insides in search of lightness
and I have seen you soar on the hurricane your words create
and I have soared with you too.
Let me breathe
into you now
the monsoon inside my river veins,
I know they all lead to the sea in the end to meet you,
maybe then you’ll see,
my dear friend,
that every crash of every wave is an ‘I love you’.
Every twisted river bed you try to straighten out is perfect in its knot inside you.
Every rip and tear and cut and blood weaves the tapestry of your story
and even from up on this mountain I can see it’s rainbow shining the promise of never another death flood.
You are beautiful like lightning rippling through a frozen lake,
and all the spiderweb cracks you make,
are exactly in their perfect place.
Photograph by Jaymi-lee Miller