I call out to the poets and scholars who preceded me. I reach with my hands, like a child grasping at stars. Sometimes, I consider everything so intensely, one might think I’m trying to move mountains with my thoughts. I try to observe the mountains as deeply as they observe us. I kneel at the stream and press my palms to the water’s surface— my hands become submerged in the gradient between sediment and river. Suddenly, the moment I hold in my hands is all there is.