Stepping into the same river, twice.

every time I see a river
I catch it with my eyes,
I stop the flow,
or follow its course,
or dip my feet in
every once in a while;

and then I wonder
how it feels
to let the oft-held image go,
of not really stepping
into the same river
every time I watch it flow;

the meanders change
the reeds rise and fall,
ripples skid over smoothed stones;
and even as the water flows on
it has left itself behind
in the essence it shares and holds;

and then I see
what I could not see before
with my half-opened eyes,
for what I see with an open heart
is how I step into
the very same river, twice.