BODY OF WATER
 

Standing by a body of water. Moving or standing still
in the dark green depths my soul finds its own level

 Lost in a mirror of infinite margins. Ever sounding
on and on. Perpetual arms pull me under lights silver sheets
tossed with wind and waves where a coiled muscle
gives up a perfect word. I come with only a fever to offer
far from the dried carnations in summers throat
and certain birds that pierce the air with an agonizing cry
I come to wash and be clean. To drown in my immensity

Baptized by a shower of angels. In sympathetic response
the surface repeats the hypnotic pattern of my longing
again and again. Flowing outward to the unwritten pages
facing me. With only a deluge to offer. Far from the suns
entrenched lullaby of insect music and the worried sleep
that parts with a film of sweat and dust. I come to be carried
away through the charitable doors that open on the shore

Standing by a body of water. Moving or standing still
In the dark green depths my soul finds its own level
 

©2001 Janet Hamill