I stand at the river's edge in my mind...
I shall follow it to its source like salmon
As the backwards flowing shall wind, unwind
I shall find that river-demon
Haunting backwaters, floods and rivulets
Bound by my thought's amulets.

And that source, should I find it, will always be
And be nothing, compared to the river that I swam
Or writhed through, flopped up on the bank by a tree
Gasping like a landed trout, when no thoughts come
Seeing the sun for the first time and thinking,
It is not I that is rising, but that which is sinking.

Sometimes I am lifted up
Raised out of the water on sharp bearclaw
Done with my floundering, wriggling, as I drop
Back gratefuly towards the water I saw
Anew from on high, I will say:
I may think the source - but I'll get there someday.

Poem inspired by reading parts of "The Handbook of the Navigator" at http://www.handbookofthenavigator.com/ [1] along with the journal entry here on Ideals and Archetypes at http://www.philosophyoffreedom.com/node/2220 [2] and an essay by Eugene Gendlin Jeff referred to there which can be found at http://www.focusing.org/gendlin/docs/gol_2137.html [3].