After reading some poetry posted by my friend Lem, I remembered that I had written a poem appropriate for this journal. Scratching through a dusty website where I first posted this piece, I was lucky enough to have found it and leave it here for you to ponder:
From the Paddle
Dipped in liquid glass it merges,
With strength of cedar, in depths of
Untold ages before and hence.
From where this path has lead,
None shall ever see again.
But forward it pulls to other days.
And now with setting sun aglow
We move in tireless unison.
Tomorrow, lad, tomorrow,
Of water's stories shall we drink.
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