A cup full of coffee and cream

Slipped and poured

From an unsteady morning hand

Onto my kitchen counter.

The spill formed and stopped

And now my awakened eyes took

What my camera captured

From the small puddle a profile.

As I pushed the color from brown to red

Appeared in a vision of self and soul,

A bloody face never before faced

Like a headwater springing up

From birthed beginnings

Stubborn and opposing

No mother, no father

As if a newborn spring could

Tell gravity, “I will not go your way.”

“I will instead will my way

Up and over the hills

Away from your family valley.”

Then from there it goes

A driving force

A sky-seeking river

Carrying me as it carves

Self-sure banks.

Cutting through even hard rock

Sediment unseen yet collected in

Rush and rage of youth.

Growing storms thunder and flood

And pass, destruction uncared for,

Forgotten, silted along the sides —

For who can stop an unfaced life?

No river holds back at river mouth,

The sea like eternity will know.

Under fresh water the dirt will drop

Welcoming salt swallows and prevails.

It was just a spill on my counter

Revealing my counter face,

My self-river

Running to the end.

And there it was and here I began to see —

In the end there is no end —

Only the face we all must face,

God’s all-consuming sea.