he swims
the lake he knows so well
cool water late night
lights guide him
from a distant shore
moving from
insisting voices
hurry up and slow down
he is too much
and not enough
the water
runs and slides
across shoulders and skin
washing the weight
of day and year
peace rolls
his thoughts
ripple and still
under night sky
he can breathe again
the lake remembers
calls him back
to quiet waters
where he is known
and he swims
**Image is Paul Stodolny's photo of Ostler Lake on Flickr.
3 comments:
what/who were you thinking about when you wrote this. i like it.
It came from my reading in Sacred Space this week.
I really like this poem for what it offers when one can still themself and relax into who they are...a moment without fixing but just an acceptance
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