illuminating a silken path of liquid
and cobblestone lilypads.
the kayak glides quietly, escorted by
skating waterbugs and jumping fish,
yet at times the sound of the kayak
sliding over lilypads crinkles loudly in the mist.
across the lake, i sit and drift -
the rising fog wrapping its ethereal tendrils around me,
wreathing the kayak in a krakon-like grip,
tenaciously pulling me to and fro.
the crickets and frogs serenade,
punctuated by murmurs of conversation floating across
the water, and the occasional burst of laughter.
glowing squares of humanity reflect on the water.
the fringed treetops are doubled in the water -
it is hard to tell where the lake begins.
i sit, accompanied by the soundless curiousity of bats.
suspended in time, an hour flies past as well.
each waterbug or movement of the kayak
refracts the moon into a thousand pieces.
it slowly settles back into itself, to be refracted again
by life.
eventually, i come back to myself,
notice my clammy skin,
my cold coffee.
i head toward my own glowing home,
nestled atop a hill, half-hidden by the trees.
the scent of woodsmoke and sounds of family
laughing around that same fire welcome me.
love beckons - and my magical moonlight trip,
reconnecting me with my soul,
eases to a close with the sound of my kayak,
hitting sand.
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Comments: 26
i want more!
you know how we in the US see the 'man in the moon' - well, in japan, they see a rabbit. if you look closely, you can see it. gotta love cultural differences!!
thank you, thank you!
This is great!!
I also like to sit and watch the last light of day disappear from the sky. You caught that moment.
thank you, thankyou for your wonderful comments.