BY RAYELLEN KISHBACH
There is a river in Nova Scotia that waxes and wanes.
The water flows West when the tide is coming in, and East when
the tide is going
It is a river that breathes with the ocean, with the moon.
We find a clarity in going, in coming, in being “on our way.”
When the river is flowing, it knows what it is, it knows how.
But during the shift, the in-between, the precise moment when it
is not flowing
and it is not flowing East — Is it still a river? It is not still.
It is nothing, everything, chaos.
The water molecules churn about in unison, together in their
The energy of the river is not this way or that, it is simply not, as
it longs to
remember how again.
We live in that moment, in the stillness, in the chaos,
not who we were this last moment, not yet who we are to be-
Here, in this singularity of nothing, everything, one.