Here in the delta of Europe
where nearly every body of water
is managed by man
there is a magic
that has been lost.
Through our mastery of management
we have contained and curtailed her,
and amorphous majesty
made straight and narrow
in the image of man.
Where is she meant to meander,
to twist and turn at her whim?
Where is she meant to change her pace,
to go fast, cut deep and grow thin?
Might we expect, she’d lose along the way,
the strength of her riverborn character?
Might we have seen, in the edifice of dams,
a caustic and unnatural narrator?
How will we know,
when we’ve gone too far?