To pretend what is, is otherwise. To speak harsh sentences in the quiet of the night when no one else hears but oneself. To hold one's breath day after day, climbing into a building that is on fire. To know what is good but pursue what is evil, letting it fasten its teeth into you. …
Hidden Streams: a fragment
Hidden streams wind their way, unseen by any eye as they work their wonders. Water melts and joins the flow as currents collect the melt in curving arms and carry it away to roaring rivers, heaving lakes and raging oceans. Do they know - do they care - what they create? Yet still they flow.
Matthew Erickson 