scatteroflight
Refugee
No-one knows
the nature of water. I
was never so close before.
It is created through contact
with the eye. There was nothing
beneath the mountains
until the curve. Now
my eyes blur with the strain
of water's presence. The lake
is blowing away
to a gap in the sky.
The surface is almost ready
to be walked on. Soon
I will know the way.
Above
sky dissolves to air.
Steam rises
from the cold conjunction.
The lake is patient.
It is always waiting
to be created. Waiting
for silver light to liquefy,
for the mountains to unfold
their revelation. For the touch
of an eye.
the nature of water. I
was never so close before.
It is created through contact
with the eye. There was nothing
beneath the mountains
until the curve. Now
my eyes blur with the strain
of water's presence. The lake
is blowing away
to a gap in the sky.
The surface is almost ready
to be walked on. Soon
I will know the way.
Above
sky dissolves to air.
Steam rises
from the cold conjunction.
The lake is patient.
It is always waiting
to be created. Waiting
for silver light to liquefy,
for the mountains to unfold
their revelation. For the touch
of an eye.