I am thinking of water, of the river as a sutra.
All rivers depict a story of the universe, both past and present. Rivers transcend the mundane and speak to matters of the spirit. They speak of impermanence. The sound of a river becomes a lamentation. Constantly moving it is symbolic of a repetitive text as in a prayer or chant. A river is not so much a lamentation but a hymn to what living demands.
A river becomes a sort of map; maps not of destinations but of directions and currents.
The river meanders, its edges being cut and reshaped, a stream of consciousness moving through space and time. Two views of the same river, the text weaving the images together making them one.