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r e w i l d i n g

stream of consciousness

By Kristen BalyeatPublished 11 months ago • Updated 11 months ago • 4 min read
Top Story - November 2025
r e w i l d i n g
Photo by Dave Hoefler on Unsplash

i am

d e e p

in

the

f i r n

neither {f l u i d}

nor {f o r m}

awaiting

the

s u n

*

by the

l i g h t

i

f l o w

a runnel

r u s h i n g

toward

o u t w a s h

spilling snowmelt

carving paths

a n e w

*

through {s t o n e}

*

through {t i m e}

*

crashing

f r e e

into

h e a d w a t e r s

thirsty for

t r u t h

*

pouring out

only to

f u n n e l

back in

to meet

tight

w i n d i n g s

and

c o n s t r a i n t s

bound in

silted eddies

*

and i

f e e l

the

pelagic deep

c a l l i n g

in

c r e s t s

and

e b b s

and

s e a f o a m

*

still i

s p i n

in the

v o r t e x

of longing

t r a p p e d

in

whorling

p o o l s

of undertow

c a u g h t

in the

c r o s s c u r r e n t s

*

yet

i know this

l o o p i n g

does not

s e r v e

me

i am not

m a d e

for these waters

i was not

m e a n t

for the

c h u r n i n g

of the

oxbow

*

i n f i n i t y

knows my

n a m e

it

s p e a k s

to me in

s w e l l s

pulling me

t o w a r d

my deepest

r e m e m b e r i n g

*

not {control}

*

not {confinement}

*

so

i

r a g e

against the

m a p s

and

c h a n n e l s

and

d a m s

a hungry {r i v e r}

diverted from my

c o u r s e

aching for the

w i l d

*

i have seen the

o c e a n

from

glacial crowns

i will

n o t

be

h e l d

as stored water

i know my

p l a c e

amongst the

moon swayed

t i d e

though it is

a boundless

m y s t e r y

i am certain

i am

the

d a n c e

of the

crashing

w a v e s

*

so i

f l o o d

the gates

crack the

f o r m s

that taught me

to fear

the

f l o w

rush the

s t r u c t u r e s

to break

b e y o n d

the barriers

built

to

h o l d

*

s p i n n i n g

into the

mouth of the

s a c r e d pull

rising

b e y o n d

my

known

thresholds

r e s u r f a c i n g

a n e w

called by

the

e s t u a r y

as it

w h i s p e r s

to me

in rain song

*

i steady my

s w e l l

*

s u r g i n g

*

f l o o d i n g

valleys

washed along

s i l t

and

l a y e r s

of debris

t u m b l i n g

over rock

and dry earth

c h a r t i n g

my own way

*

i

have

known

the

c o u r s e

of small

creeks

and the

e n d l e s s

binding of

c o n s t r u c t s

but

in this

new

f o r m

i

know neither

c a l m

straight lines

nor structure

i

r u s h

in

toward

f r e e d o m

spreading over

e x p a n s e s

*

yet

with time

i

r e m e m b e r

how to {river}

and {c u r v e}

and {c a s c a d e}

a

r e w i l d i n g

spirit

i n t e g r a t i n g

every form

into new

c a d e n c e

a hymn

of

p u r p o s e

and

f l o w

*

until

i

d i s s o l v e

into

brackish waters

m e l d i n g

into the

i m m e a s u r a b l e

depths

of

b e i n g

*

a

r e t u r n

*

to {o c e a n}

*

to {m i s t}

*

to {s k y}

*

gently

r e m i n d e d

through each

e v o l u t i o n

i was

n e v e r

s e p a r a t e

from

d i v i n e {rhythm}

only

c y c l i n g

the

vast

u n f o l d i n g

of

the

i n f i n i t e

h o r i z o n

inspirationalStream of Consciousnesslove poems

About the Creator

Kristen Balyeat

Words fly to me on the wind, bump me as I'm strolling the city, splash me in the face while I rest by the river, and shake me awake in the middle of the night—I’m humbly one of the vessels they use to come to life.

Also, i love you:)

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    Written by Kristen Balyeat