Mountain Spring

Water moving up and out

back to the light again

carrying traces of where

it has been, holding the

taste of glacial rock heaves,

cool, dark earth—the part of

the mountain that only water

sees, as it flows, under pressure

not its own, upward, stronger

than gravity's reach, welcoming

tighter, smaller spaces that

only increase its speed, then

quietly opening to sunlight,

sliding smoothly over silver

rock, welcomed by weary

hikers on their own way

up or down—show me, water,

how you mold yourself,

change shape, fearlessly,

in this journey without source,

from light to darkness

and back again.