My two smallest are helping me celebrate the arrival of the spring 2025 edition of The California Quarterly by the California State Poetry Society! My poem, "Flow" was featured in this edition. It's an extended metaphor about mothering, or really any stage of life where we feel a little "stuck," but it's all part of God's plan for us. Flow The patch of water flows downstream Beneath the blue cathedral of sky. Moving around bends, winding around rocks, Through arches of trees, Beneath bridges of stone, Burbling, laughing, thundering in its work, Housing fishes and carrying bits of straw— Going ever down, down, downward… Until it stops. Rocks, stones, sticks and branches Formed a dam last fall, Impeding the flow of the water, Frustrating the flow of the water, Stopping the water from following its joy, Its ever-downward flowing. Trapped. Caught. Stagnated In a little pool where the algae thicken, And mosquitoes lay eggs in the shallows. A generation of fish and frogs are hatched and grown in its depths. The spring rains swell the little pool and finally, Finally, the water builds, builds, builds, Spills over the edge of the dam, Breaking free, Leaving the algae behind, Leaving the mosquito larvae, Taking the sodden piece of straw Along with it, Richer for having Housed the fishes and frogs, For having waited, Fulfilling a different Purpose for a while, Letting new young things grow. It spills over in its joy As it flows down again to the sea.