Deluge, banks over run br fields flood br nothing is recognizable. br br Come the next day br the river recedes br stirred, full br br thick with earth’s sediment br carrying downstream br remnants of life. br br The water settles br and finds the bank again. br One wonders what happened. br br It rained. And it will rain again. br That is the way of it. br br - br br Predictions are useless. br The river flows br in abundance and scarcity. br br Or not at all br but comes to a dry bed. br Isn’t that rare? br br It is. br It is a river br because it flows. br br That is its nature. br One can sit on the bank br and admire it. br br One can float it swim it drown in it. br What does it care? br br - br br The river is a conveyance. br By means natural br or not br br a link is afforded br between this docking and that. br Goods and services br br wares to be traded br folk to embark and disembark br letters to be delivered br br all find the river available. br Avail yourself. br Do not fret that it will suddenly br br come to an end. br Relish that it doesn’t. br br - br br The river is a metaphor br for what cannot be simply said. br What arid culture br br lacks a river tale? br What shaman does not invoke br the river demon? br br I have tried to use the river br as a metaphor. br That it flows, that it is a conveyance br br that it is a link. br What more can I say? br Can the metaphor be more clear? br br The river says I am here, you are there. br We have the river.br br Hanque O . . .