The opalescent fish,
a predator
measured in unconscious patience,
chooses his path
without choosing.

A dip down beneath a bowed plant
to tune alee from the drift
and a sudden twist up
for a sharp gulp of bubble matter,
all without a wanting mind.

As I bend to indulge in no-time
with my friend, the fish,
I can only feel ashamed,
as my back and forths are
scaled to moment,
and wholly, unforgivingly
considered by desires.

If only to conduct the self like the fish,
unassuming of any space,
without a knowledge of this wish,
and unaware of natural grace.