i am woken up

from long sleep

perched on a slippery slab

of moss-hugged stone

having scrabbled up

by my water shoes

and sacrificed palms

to stare and stare

at the sunlight

turning the underbelly

of the cascade,

as it leaps past the limestone

above my reverent head,

yellow blue yellow blue.

.

i, new and old acolyte

of the way light filters through

breathe deep

down past my chilly toes

to the silt in the water

to the skipping-stones

to the minnows in the nooks.

.

i pull my gaze to my friends

in the day-sheltered alcove

scrambling for purchase

and splashing back down

giggling

treading the gentle current

and sink back in after

my prayer of thanks to the sun.

.

i drift into the path

of the mist-licked shower

and let the stream

be interrupted in its tumble

by my humbly offered skull.

i blink through the spray

and grin at the friend

who joins my baptism,

obscuring my face

in dramatic flair,

intone a familiar song

of exaggerated despair.

it is swiftly, buoyantly echoed.

i wade in and out

of the torrent that stirs me

and laps at my bones

and pulls me awake

a little while longer.

then i submerge below

the river’s pearlescent gate

pop out the other side

and swim to shore.

-west virginia, summer 2026