don’t praise a river for flowing downstream
it carves out the delta whether you know it or not

the lamb won’t stray til the shepherd has gone;
in the crook of the land she sleeps on,
heart warm and beating,
sweet lamb with sweet dream-bleating.
and he lingers by her, reading

but is it better to live off the wheat or the wind?
is it better to cavort or to settle in?
while lambs slumber, he wakes within
new adventures will always await him

4-26-21