Only through time is time conquered,
The continual drip and tick,
Of the universe, our souls, our minds,
It ends, like this–
I do not know much about gods;
but I think that the river
Is a strong brown god –
sullen, untamed and intractable.
T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets: Dry Salvages
Nothing makes you feel more alone–
Yesterday’s twenty miles of river
Calculated today, a lifetime.
The hunting bird, you said eagle,
Then, you said Osprey,
It was an Osprey.
Great beautiful white-winged thing
Hunting the Spokane River
For the one that jumps too high,
Makes itself too known,
Dares to release itself
From the swelling under-swell.
Listen to T.S. Eliot read Four Quartets.