You are the lake.
The spirit and substance.
The evaporation and overflow.
You are it's ice and mist.
You are the temperature of the plants and fish.
Today you are smooth.
glass of the bright sunshine of your waters
You wait, an eye on the sky.
I am heron, white against blue.
I soar and circle.
I shout my call to the wind.
to calm the air I cry.
I rise, and then I fall.
plummeting toward you like an arrow.
As I near your surface, I slow motion spread the parachute of my wings.
With a single strong stroke, I enter you.
Not a ripple do I make.
The glass reflects my above surface half in stark relief to bottom.
My beak turned down, I spread feathers in ritual greeting.
from my mouth I drop a single seed.
It disappears in spiral descent.
floating down, it is captured as prey for the catfish below.
I spy the catfish and dive for it.
It comes up enjoying its last strokes against water and slides down my throat.
I raise my beak to give it clear path.
My wings stretch and raise.
My feet begin a natural circle.
And I am propelled by them across your surface.
I draw an intersection of peace with a wake that does not swamp the water lilly close by.
It bends in slight salute.
I plunge suddenly in your warm bath.
And rise flapping into the air.
My wave is my goodbye as I circle ever higher into your blue brother's face.
There will be other seeds out there.

09/12/2011

Author's Note: An Improvisation.

Posted on 11/28/2011
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