THE LANGUAGE OF WATER

you wait
by the lake
alone

except for your self
&
your reflected self

as if
the landscape
dreamt you up

your thoughts
a flock of birds
scattered across the failing light

clouds laugh
run along the ground
on tiny unseen feet

trees stand on their heads
wriggling their toes
in the air

& you
become as two
both real & unreal

as if a living
dream
you hum

Pachabel's Canon
as sun & horizon
listen

not bad
for a human
they both agree.

it's as if
I need a key
to enter this magical

dimension
as if I have to
invent one

...a magical one.
I take a little stone
whisper to it

the secrets
of flight
and teach it

how to say:
"Splash! "
in the language of water

the little stone
transformed with i
ts new knowledge

does as it is told
shatters
this mirror world

opens
the dream
and I enter

bewitched
as any fairytale
Prince

my voice
calling your sweet name
with longing

you turn
& we embrace
kiss

& look upon ourselves
as the dream
remakes itself

stitching itself
together
with silence

an old artist
(unknown to us then)
places us the lovers

at the centre
of his composition
adds this final brushstroke

and pleased
with his efforts
folds up his chair

packs up
his paints & easel
smiles at ourkisses

wishes
us a goodnight
and is gone
eaten by the twilight

our laughter
frail & fragile
lingering on the night air

playing
peek-a-boo
with the moonlight