She loved the water, but not as much as the water loved her. Reaching for her, struggling for embrace each time she set foot on it’s shores. The lake was vast and held beauty and life of all kinds, but it wanted nothing more than this girl. The girl who marveled at the water’s beauty even when the wind was stinging and harsh and no others would venture away from their homes on such a day. The lake left her gifts. It collected the wastes and trash that others had abandoned at it’s soft edges and transformed it into treasures of all sorts. Broken bottles, once with jagged edges, were now jewels of the water’s making. Gifts for the girl, they were strewn about the sand. Each time the girl followed the shore the waves would reach for her feet longingly. The girl would giggle and bound away from the approaching wave, afraid to wet her shoes on such a cold day. As moments passed the girl would venture on, drifting nearer to the water, searching for treasures along the edge of the sand. Each time she did, the lake would reach for her. Again she would giggle. They played this game each time the girl came to visit the lake. The lake loved the way the girl’s laughter rode on the wind, but as time went by the lake grew more and more blue. Not in colour, but in spirit. Reaching for something it loved dearly without embrace. Only summer brought hope that the girl would venture away from the shore. The lake understood, but oh how the it longed for the coming of summer warmth.
This was inspired by a friend who enjoyed dragging me to the beach in the midst of winter.
I paint the picture with pastel colors. Dotting the sky in pink clouds While the horizon lay in an amber slumber. A single pine tree slanted towards the crystal lake; I draw another for companionship. And it soon blooms into a forest With shrubs and blackberry bushes and ferns, Then I make a ripple in the lake With leaves that drift along the gentle current To the farther edges of the tender loch.
I envisioned the clear waters of the wetlands As I cleaned my pallet and washed away the paint, Like how painting landscapes washed away my worries.
I'm sure you saw a completely different image to what I actually painted. You are such a unique, beautiful creature.
my toes are inching toward the lake for a moment i’m too cowardly to touch the drink the water has been rolling towards me all the while and it is braver than i am and so the first to make contact the water washes over my sandy feet my eyes are closed and for a second i am alone with my sensations i hear seagulls above the children laughing beside me i can hear the water trickling, waves crashing then something grabs me by the leg
I stand in a puddle of water Liquid pooled around my ankles Dripping from my eyes so slow I didn’t notice them at first But when they become apparent, foreign fingers brushed them away And I’d disregard the wetness to pull back the hands
Who do these hands belong to?
The puddle becomes a pool I stand in the shallow end and wiggle my toes My fingers have grown pruney from where my fingers dip in the water Blisters have settled on my soles and children splash at my face Droplets trail to my collarbone and I blink away water or tears and wonder Ears listening to unrecognizable laughter
Whose children are these?
The water sits level at my mouth I should feel weightless but my clothes drag me down The pool has become a lake and I stand in it shivering Perched on my toes there is a precarious balance for air The tears don’t stop and keeps the water rising My sobs echo across the surface Murky figures wave at me from the shore and smile like they know me
Who am I?
They say a river never forgets That it knows its way back to the ocean But my river swirls around my head and drips from my ears From my eyes The lake forms a lock of memories that can be touched But never held
A lake is where memories go to be forgotten
So I drown in a Lethe that pours from my eyes, from my mind And I sink to forget and be forgotten