River ~ for Steve Young

This clock we watch has been flooded   
A snarl of river deities meander ruefully across it's ordered surface
As mercifully disruptive as wilderness can be
Running the ruin of measure and predictability
No comforting intervals or segmented parts 
No way to slice or divide it's ribless nature
Slam of metre and rhythm unbound
Close to Insurmountable
A river walks her prowl and riddle
Seedless in origin and cause 
And each of us the inevitable straggler 
To eddy and curl in her underflow 
Becoming loyal devotees to the process 
Offering gifts that fill the roots of the Mother Tree
Gathering to feed her forest
Her understory
The mysterious soil