In the park,
by the lake,
loud geese clamor
to be fed.
Little girl
in new red shoes,
polished
to a gleaming shine,
gazes at her face reflected
in the mirror of her toes.
Sitting on a wooden bench
she swings her feet
in quiet pleasure
and spreads her fingers
wide apart.
The sticky chocolate
melted fast.
The swans
spread out
their wide,
white wings,
lifting up
in springs
rare flight.
On a branch
the blackbird sings.
Everything is full of light.
the girl in the park squats down
her head almost down to the ground
she is taking close up photographs
of crocus spread out in the sun
i take a more distant view
i see a girl
in a field of yellow
that shines
i know her obsession well
she is oblivious to all that’s around her
focused on one yard of earth
i used to carry a camera
to capture that special light
it’s a study in glory
wherever it’s spotlight falls
now i carry a notebook
i enter the girl on my page
– another small study from life
the lovers sit on a wall nearby
wrapped in each others arms
lost in each others eyes and dreams
they notice nothing at all
falling from a mountain spring
pouring down the waterfalls
rushing over rock
drumming through the hollows
babbling to the sheep
flowing through the valley
reflecting summer skies
chasing the kingfisher
toward the evening light
hiding here and there
vanished underground
passing through the city
collecting plastic bags
running in the dark
racing through the sluice gates
seeping through the cracks
leaping down the weir
escaping through the park
loitering with ducks
lapped against the bridges
dipped with fishing rods
passing through the village
dithering with frogs
winding through the meadows
dallying with swans
gliding under willows
seeking quiet shade
stroking the salmon
lazed in sunlit pools
growing ever wider
entering the estuary
taken by the tide
i see the river rise
rise and rise again
sustaining every life
lifted by the sun
it reaches to the sky
flies above the mountains
flooding back in rain
pouring down the waterfalls
rushing over rock
a mirror reflecting a bridge
blue span across a calm pool
with a foaming drop to the other side
where swans drift in gentle spray
lazily begging food
i lean over and watch them
warm sun beating down on my back
so peaceful here in summer
when the floods come in winter
this is another place
the water rises and roars
the river booms
vibrating the beams
close to my feet
debris in swirling bundles
crashes into the bridge
a whole tree lodged on the edge
in muddied, tumultuous foam
the banks of the river burst
threatening houses
and making a lake of the park
where the swans glide idly in pools
they are undisturbed
while my heart pounds
to the booming beat of the bridge
The Dreaming Path 