hold me when the river runs don't let go. watch it wind, see me sink.
hold me when the river runs to wherever it can't wait to be rushing, roaring, rigid flowing sudden stops -- please, give me warnings
hold me when it all floats up, when the bones pierce through, when the gold is birthed, when my palms fail to release, when they fail to keep.
hold me when the river runs don't. let go. I'll learn to follow echoes.
Assignment for a creative writing class. Picture poetry. The picture I got was of my friend and seatmate Kristine as a baby being carried by her dad at the entrance of the Underground River in Puerto Prinsesa.