Wonder of the glistening ripples as the waters hush gently.
And these ones?
With ink webbed nets capture a reflection in words to share.
I cower mostly to try.
Is a fisherman a fisherman if he never caught a fish, or is a poet a poet if he's never contributed a real poem?
Perhaps in his heart.
Even to my ignorant ears
I don't need a translator to understand another's laughter and tears
Are they born of cruelty or blessing
those fleeting moments of recognition that brings you to mind?
Those rare occasions when I spy another with your frame,
or catch an echoed vowel in an overheard conversation
filling me with hope
of seeing you.
Is it cruelty or a blessing
when I'm stopped with the thump
before I can form an eager smile.
Cruelty in acknowledging the truth.
Blessing to have memories of you.
to an ocean smooth stone
one of many on the shore.
one you're drawn too.
it waited for you.
laying in palm's cup
it feels snug at home.
You don't know what you're missing until it's gone.
You don't know what you were missing until it's found.
It's carried around.
sometimes it's a burden
sometimes it doesn't sit well at all.
sometimes you throw it away.
sometimes, without warning,
sometimes it's a casual fling.
sometimes it's comforting
feels as though it belongs.
sometimes it's the foundations of a poem.
frozen liquid pirouette
rooted from toe-tip
flowing calf to thigh stem
runs the shin to
soft ankle twist.
Toe to knee again.
torso flowering divine
delicate swan neck leaning
face in ecstasy
Petal arms reaching
to tulip cup.