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Poem
17 years ago
I think the creek I live near wants to die
It's an eustuarine creek, fed by both fresh and seawater that threads it's way though surburbia. Constrained on both sides by houses and yards, it catchment has been paved under and it's flow maintained artificially
I think it wants to die.
I think it's tired of allowing pollutants into the bay. Tired of the constant noise from motorboats. Tired of not being allowed to flow as it wants.
I think it wants to die
It wants to allow the silt to build up. For the water flow to slow, then stop. To feel it's waters drain away. It wants the animals to find somewhere better, more deserving, more alive for which to make their home.
It wants to die and then be reborn in the rain.
It wants to carve a new watercourse over houses and down streets. It wants to be able to move again, like a snake, ever shifting it's banks. Never the same. It wants to be able to rage, to be calm, to be everything in between.
It wants to feel life return as it creates new soils with each flooding. To feel trees drink deep of it's waters and then share it with the sky. To watch the young nursing in their hidden places. To carry the old to their final resting place.
It wants to be alive.
It's an eustuarine creek, fed by both fresh and seawater that threads it's way though surburbia. Constrained on both sides by houses and yards, it catchment has been paved under and it's flow maintained artificially
I think it wants to die.
I think it's tired of allowing pollutants into the bay. Tired of the constant noise from motorboats. Tired of not being allowed to flow as it wants.
I think it wants to die
It wants to allow the silt to build up. For the water flow to slow, then stop. To feel it's waters drain away. It wants the animals to find somewhere better, more deserving, more alive for which to make their home.
It wants to die and then be reborn in the rain.
It wants to carve a new watercourse over houses and down streets. It wants to be able to move again, like a snake, ever shifting it's banks. Never the same. It wants to be able to rage, to be calm, to be everything in between.
It wants to feel life return as it creates new soils with each flooding. To feel trees drink deep of it's waters and then share it with the sky. To watch the young nursing in their hidden places. To carry the old to their final resting place.
It wants to be alive.
