Friday, March 14, 2008

... 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.

4 comments:

Ganga Fondan said...

Thanks for the beautiful words. I've been thinking of writing more again. I like these words too. Have you heard that the poets and dreamers are the architects of this world? I guess we better get to it. Peace.

Hopper said...

And peace to you... pity in this world seems to be that not enough people dare to dream...

Honour said...

this is such a powerful piece ... the images and metaphor evoke the emotion in a stronger way more than just naming it ever could ...lots of layers in here too. nicely crafted !

Hopper said...

thanks roxy... i've got an e-mail going out to you further this post...