Wood, water, and oarsmen pulling, pulling past, leaving a light of lights on the river briefer than wood or water or oarsmen pulling but longer abiding: secret cache of recall, a currency to count when wood and oarsmen abandon river along with day's delight in streaming water. O fire of lasting wealth! O moment's vision vaulted in safer keeping than hull and oar can guarantee, than muscle churn into passing brilliancies! Dear million- sparked investment, coin of consummate wake, seed money in the nourishing earth of river, my fertile landscape!
Wood decays, and value of hand and shoulder, even the strong, the striving. A source is stilled, withheld, which curried ocean But not this worth, this wellspring where I touch a gift beheld, a rich remembrance held in view so long as memory obtains and yes, so gold it is, an aeon longer.