Song of a Reformer
I can't stop trying to be good.
It's my illness, though some days
it's in remission.
By the river, I take my shoes and socks off,
find a flat rock and patch of sun,
let the glacial water baptize me.
See how the river cuts its own path,
how the valley surrenders,
how the eddies and currents, unruly,
are as good and as beautiful
as anything I've ever seen.