Youth found me seeking the fastest rivers
diving into them careless and unafraid
then stroking boldly upstream
faster than the current flowed down against me.
I was a god.

Now I watch the Spring ice break
huge white boulders tumbling downstream  
furious cold and unforgiving
but I do not jump in.

Not that I could not swim, but why?
I have already drunk the wine
that flows from the foot of the gold mountains
from where all rivers begin.

Now I walk down a path trod by the elders
past where the river moves fast
to where the current wanes into deep pools
and the silver fish glide among the reeds.
I wade in slowly
water gently rising up
until it closes over my head
and I see something.
I release my breath
and descend deeper into the calm.