![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLDY4Bz0JVZxTkl1NtvNMvqHmHyHT-KBR_gk40Qft0rym1oTcIxgfCTj0lrkuZN-P8fIviLeqHX9S03r3mLExFY6bC89S-413QXUHDwLo-ReD498aPJVA-7_O0TrfewOj0Nhh1Wluvy7GJ/s400/Indigo_Undersea.jpg)
Painting by C.J. Swift
Listening Deep
It came to me that a river is flowing
somewhere inside the ocean, a crystal
muscle of water flexing under
the salt; and in it, trapped for centuries,
fish from a purer stream are living
in their old ways, fresh and strong.
It came to me as I was breathing,
one in a crowd of people waiting
inside a convention listening to speeches
that whispered something hidden in language
to save us. I felt that Amazon tug
for a minute, before the salt came back.
William Stafford
Posted over on Kansas Literature
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