Rolling river ever on with neither stopping nor hesitating, carries me down over the stones as flotsam on the tide. Shallow yet still breathing energy over each bank of rocks.

Wallowing in the water without the basket Moses knew and no guide or watchful eye to save.

Under the bridge the deeper pools draw me in, and the force of the water washes me against the rocks. Swimming against the current takes all my energy and progress is only six feet.

Let go…

The power of the river can be felt, but the large rocks catch me again, as if a harbour from the danger.