The Excavation (an ode to writer’s block)

Out of the dark­ness, a tunnel has been chiselled.
Painstak­ing and heart-rend­ing, over the years, from the inside out.
Slowly gently, the water begins to trickle from the dam
Aiding in its turn the excav­a­tion; carrying
twigs and mud and gen­eral debris into the light,
then quicker and quicker it flows, and the workers
no longer use buck­ets to start the motion, until
the cas­cade tumbles out, crys­tal and fragile,
spark­ling and glor­i­ous, and cap­able of drowning
all life for a hun­dred miles.

The work­ers stand around, con­grat­u­lat­ing mutual
achieve­ment, and, remem­ber­ing the pain of the years,
pray together that the flow will never stop.