First Song

There was and there is, the past and the present
Water flowing in several directions
Though it flows from the self-same source

Which is how memory works –bedding down and branching out
And touching the extraordinary it calls up and embraces

Which is not to say that everything is understood
It isn’t –but that does not matter

As water brings with it details of the annunciation
Something which, if not fully understood, it at least subscribed to