i pulled myself from the river all mud and silted up
and came up through the mist new
and sinuous
rising light as air as mountains
but my feet stayed clay stuck
legs all caught up in stories of the past
the he said she said
and all those faces
but i saw the part of me
which came all gossamer and new
above the water
good without attachment
i came like that clear again
and when the voices sounded:
mother father sister brother
them us
i heard them as they are
sound nothing
my own white imagining
wind whispering through leaves