Message From Niagara

Tonight, I cannot sleep;
and counting sheep has never
worked for me.
And so

I'm thinking how time goes: it flows
like water.
It can be
a rushing rivulet,
wide flood,
white water rapids treacherous as tides,
or drought
when (if time goes
at all) it flows underground and slow.

Time's like spring rain
or melting snow;
like rivers grown
deep-channeled from the source
day into day unbroken
in their constant course.
Time's like
gale-force wind-driven rain,
inexorable,
flash flood and hurricane,
a season or a lifetime
in a moment gone.

All time is
now
as water is.
The glacier, geyser's steam,
the ocean, puddle, teardrop
and the stream
are one/ is now,
new with each breath
and older than the earth.

And I,
(not sleeping still)
have frozen time
crystal cold unmoving
even while Niagara flows:
mist in the air
and crashing turbulence below.