now the dam is broken
after years of tireless service
protecting natural waterways from more
than they should handle
according to someone's estimation.
now the river may run swift again,
may sometimes flood its banks,
and the dead and dry will rise up green
in lush and tameless life.
now the stream may sing once more
its trickle ripple song,
and the forgotten pond may be reborn
a silent, sacred refuge.
but I did not foresee the power
of too much too long held
when finally loosed.
all is uprooted,
in the fury of this flood.
how long until the waters settle?
what will then remain?
some say I must have lost my mind.
I fear I may have found it.