... now I am a lake

... now I am a lake. It is after dusk, a clear, calm night. Not the rustle of a leaf or the fall of a wing breaks the stillness that descends like a dew. It is almost spring and my ice has given way but for the subtle space where I meet the air, no more than the remembrance of frost, fingertips of crystals stretching to touch. I can see more than myself again. I see a sky full of stars and faithfully reflect heaven as though I am its mirror, a still frame of what was and what will be and what is -- the one moment. Nothing moves save those sparks above. My thaw has frozen this world. From my depths issues a prayer that winter will never return.