We are wading in a steam:
Some near the center
In the rushing current
Bravely standing, stumbling
Sometimes falling
Carried forward

Leaving those behind
Who are in the shallows
Clinging to branches
That reach out protectively
Impeding progress
Safe, but still

Sometimes the current
Overtakes those who embrace it
And dismiss its mad danger —
Only to fall beneath the surface
And never rise again

In the shallows, some relax their grip
And let the current take them
Slow at first, then faster
Alive, joyful
But angry that they waited for so long to let go

Most never leave the shallows
Still holding tight
Or worse, decide to seek
The cold solace of the riverbank
This time, this time
They find it