A poem written by Jeremy Berquist
(Do not worry, my friend.)
Along the turgid, cloudy river,
shimmering breaks of light
echo across the canyon walls.
One side is future, the other past.
(Before you speak the words)
We search for things spoken of,
our words tools, hands
gesture one moment before lips
declare our common goal.
(At the moment of creation)
We take ourselves up by the bootstraps,
like life from carbon pulled,
our meeting suddenly spoken of
as reflection first formed by a child.
(We are more than the sum of two parts.)
© 2016 Mental Health Association of Northwestern PA