This creek, I think, is perhaps a metaphor, a stand-in, a liquid ekkyklema on my hero’s journey to know thyself, to bathe myself in healing waters or the love of God or a god or all of them or none of them, to get to the heart of the matter, to be consumed by the joy of everlasting love, to find redemption or enlightenment or nirvana or self-actualization, to cease the chase for rainbows, for ghosts, for King Charles’s head or the Holy Grail or myonetruelove or white whales and arks of covenants. Rumi said what you seek is seeking you, and it is here I realize why this goddamned fish is called a cutthroat.
