Amidst the placards and banners and chanting and the thousands upon thousands of people walking, there was a tree and a bench where I could sit for a moment in the shade, out of the pressing stream of people. An eddy, if you will. A place where I could steady myself before stepping back in. How nice that the place is tucked inside the word which takes its breath there.

The practice is inspired by Naomi Shihab Nye and her notion that words are like oars. Dip them in the water. Explore with them. Feel how they touch and bump up against one another. Let them take us further down the stream.