Relationship with Water

I was raised by a river, the Mississippi. She connected me. I slipped off my shoes and stepped in, wiggling my toes in the mud, feeling the water flow along my legs, remembering.

Reaching towards Mexico, my ancestors, my mother’s mother’s mother.

Finding in the river what I couldn’t find in the people around me. The river reflected me when no one else could.

Oh look, there I am and I could breath again, live again.

Now I am downstream and I let the little girl upstream know that she is loved. Keep living, sweet girl, I hold you gently.

Did you drink enough to last through the drought years, the dry sand years?

Did you carry the water you needed within you?