The Mad Kayaker Dreams of Water Falls

In the mad kayaker’s dream he stands high above
The world’s last wild river and the mist
Climbs like steam from a kettle out of the gorge.
In the plunge pool below are other kayakers,
And he knows one is him, already somehow
At the bottom of the world’s final waterfall.

Somehow the vast watershed of his dream
Is home to magic, and the conjured hopes of place.
He knows if he woke up this landscape
Would fail and flood with the demands of reality
And he would be left without this last demand-
To slip in his kayak and join the boaters at the bottom.

The falls before him is like a story ready to plunge,
Forever into telling. He joins his twin below
In the mist, and stands with his boat on his shoulder
For this brief moment below the rocks and river roar.

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