There are many rivers where I live. They flow down streets and through alleyways pouring in and out of drains. They fall from the sky, through our rooves and through our ceilings. They start and stop spontaneously, without any warning.

You can never be sure if you're standing in a river bed.

Sometimes a river springs up on someone's face and trickles gently down their cheeks. These rivers never seem to last very long. Other times they'll burst in torrents out of a mouth or a pen, flooding everything around them. These rivers can last a life time.

Most of the rivers here do not have a name. We accept them tacitly and do not talk of them much. Every once in a while someone will try to build a bridge, but a river will spring up above it, and in the end we just end up accepting them. They've become part of our lives.

I think the rivers here are peaceful rivers. Rivers that feed and baptise, cleanse and protect. I only wish we would let them.