Watermarks
A soft voice masks the fierce currents
of desire and memory left behind –
in stories now told by shifting stones and river banks.
Forever bound and forever lost to each other
these forces
surrender what they cannot hold
to the river currents
that answer only to movement and change.
How do we find the rest of who we are- now lingering in the residue of
other more tumultuous days.
The changing truth of our existence
finds clear and mutable reflections
in the countless lakes and rivers moving steadily
beneath sensuous skies-
their constant gestures render earth
into a damp landscape of prolific vegetation
and subtle terrain.
This evening the waters are radiant as they reflect
everything they see-
a flowing story that somehow satiates the moments
of longing that rest silently between us.
Before it is too late I will tell you how the waiting has filled me today.
It is a relentless absence
the kind described
in the humid sighs of a heaven suspended
above the anticipation
of a dry earth
calling to the summer rain it longs for.
Relief is a thick and sultry presence sensed long before its occurrence…
Ancient sounds spill into the landscape of my hunger
as a storm announce its intended arrival
with a resonance that assures
the inevitable rain
and turbulence it will bring
-and yet at this moment
in a tenuous calm near the edge of the storm
it is the sun resting serenely on the water
that allows me to see the many reasons
we are still here…