He looked down into the pool
as it turned to fire.
Igniting his reflection,
burning his eyes,
lashes singed,
and I could smell it,
sparking sparkling ripples.
He is lucky he isn’t blind now…
I told him to turn away
from the mysteries.
Though how could the fire
be so cold, he wondered.
Again, with curiosity,
Though he did not dare touch his hand
to the water
in fear of its depths
And secrets.
He once thought the pool had no emotion,
that the smooth movements of the water
were a result of the breeze
but the water breathed
and was disturbed by him.