The Waterwheel If I were a waterwheel and you were the water, I could carry you way up high in my moss covered bins. I would spill you out onto the small raised aqueducts and you, or some part of you, would be on your way as far as the fall of gravity could carry you. You push me gently below the waterline, unseen but constant and I lift you. We'll carry on that way, pushing and lifting, lifting and pushing, as long as the water flows. Without water running by what is a waterwheel, but stillness and sadness, like a river damned. Were it not for one and the other there would be no water raised nor wheel turned.
This is another waterwheel in town. I think there are 16 of them. That’s a lot of love.
Ah, this is beautiful.
I love these lines. I could steep in them forever.
You push me gently
below the waterline,
unseen but constant
and I lift you.