I’ve come to walk along her edges 

Where I have seen the rain fall hard 

Upon her surface 

Creating a mirage of current 

And where the sun places twinkles  

Inside the ripples of her smile. 

 

Like many times before, I dip my hand 

Into her body, she is still cold 

Even this far into the season. 

For the sun can only skim her. 

There are deep hidden springs 

Within her heart, that 

Forever cast new spells. 

 

The encircling trail 

Is now all dust and powder 

And I feel as if I have hooves 

Kicking up clouds, settling 

Quietly, quickly behind me. 

A patch of dry rocks 

Where the spring runoff 

Had cascaded through crevices 

Show the wrinkles of her ancient age 

Bones of memory 

And though she stays stoic 

She aches, (as I do) for fall and winter. 

 

At times it seems we are rebelling 

Against the sky  

Rebelling, even further out 

Into all that’s unknown 

Until we reach the point where our fingertips 

Touch the inseparable network of everything. 

 

There is a waterfall 

Tucked up high in the surrounding mountains. 

Calmed of its spring strength. 

I could reach it through deciduous and evergreen. 

Perhaps that’s where the tale is 

The one I will take back with me. 

The story that proves her magic 

That quells the heat of the city. 

For once I have the story 

Nothing can sink its teeth into me.

I will be stripped bare down to the aura 

I will have absorbed her power  

And even if the city sees the pain in my eyes 

I will persevere. 

 

I’ve come to hear something in a voice 

Only she can create.

That I am free. 

I bend down and drink her 

With my head next to her shore 

All pain vanquished.