Put everything familiar inside of a red raft,
on smooth mud-covered waters,
And as his heals sunk to the sand
I didn't know the compassion that was coming.

Your vastness encompassed not just my body,
but my mind.
I was encircled in your silence,
Your golden sun that by night was replaced by an even more enormous beauty;
Lost in your curved and jagged love.

Birds of every blue,
water that tickles back as you touch it,
and wheat brims that stretch for miles.

Those Rock edges,
two hundred feet up,
they leaned down.
Leaned down and grabbed around the small of my back
and the Earth hugged me--
warm and familiar

Then released me back to my boat
I lay:
face to the sun - back to the river,
and whispers of wisdom created ripples in the water.

The warmth of the rubber took to the curve of my spine
Feeling like I'd never been let go.
I don't even think I realized how much I love you
Until our eight hours wore down—too quickly.

So as I left my memory,
I leaned my face to the sky,
pressed my chest to the sun,
And tried to let you know
That I was hugging you right back.