Does anything that touches water bend it?
Or does the water bend to receive it?
Is water subject to gravity?
Or does it make an empty space under a willow tree, for the leaves to fill? Is that what we drink? The emptiness that is fullness?
If water fills what is empty, might it not simultaneously empty what is full? This tide flat in Borgarfjörður, Iceland, at dusk (2:30 pm in November), for example?
Does it have a double spirit?
Is that what we bring to it, or is it the gift it gave to us and which we give back?
What if looking into water really is looking into the mind?
Are not words only pools, cupped mouths, that can fill with it, or empty with it?
Yes, this is a choice, to place before words, or after, or, like water, between: where they simultaneously are and are not.
There are also rushes.